Gemini
by MatsuMama
Summary: Of all the drinking stories in Soul Society, theirs are by far the best. A Ukitake/Shunsui melange - laughter, tears, love, loss...everything BUT yaoi. I MEAN it, this fic is HET ONLY. An homage to my favorite two captains. Dedicated to Wilder. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

Getting old was a very strange thing.

It was not one of the things Ukitake Jyuushirou was particularly fond of contemplating – mainly because the very perusement of it made him feel, well..._old_ – but since he was one of the few Gotei captains with more than enough opportunity to think long and hard on anything and everything, the subject persistently swirled up from deep within his psyche and niggled at him like a loose tooth.

Ukitake was not a vain man, so this slight obsession with the process of aging bemused him. Perhaps, he often concluded, it was because he had never expected to grow old in the first place, and even now with a couple of millennium safely tucked under his obi, the concept was still novel to him.

First off, he could never decide if he actually felt old or not. Oh sure, there were times of trial or difficulty – not to mention the odd captain's meeting – when Jyuushirou felt the weight of centuries pressing down on him with such cumbrous gravity that it was difficult to stand straight up under it. There were periods of his long life that bore such pain and loss that he had fervently wished to be six feet under the ground already.

But for every one of those times, Jyuushirou could think of a dozen moments when it seemed like no time at all had passed from his own boyhood. A joke shared with Shunsui that had him laughing until he was breathless, or a sparring session without a single hitch in his chest that reminded him of endless days playing on the grounds of Ugendo, long before such vitality had been cut short. In those moments of clarity, it seemed like nothing had changed at all, and he was still the dark-haired boy with eons of life ahead of him.

So much changed, Ukitake decided as he so often did, even as so many things stayed the same.

And that was another thing – trying to keep the past straight became quite the exercise after a couple thousand years. Even for one with such an eidetic memory as his, Jyuushirou would often find the centuries blending together into a nebulous melange. Images and events were crisp and clear, but the timing of everything sometimes got muddled. The edges of emotions blunted and blurred and bled into each other until Jyuushirou was quite sure he had gotten something wrong, that he had not felt _that_ way about something, or found _that_ problem quite so difficult to solve. The further he got away from things, the less they seemed to make sense, enough so that Ukitake often worried that age didn't make you wiser, just slightly insane.

This would inevitably lead Ukitake to wonder if he was remembering things accurately or subconsciously rewriting history in order to suit some deep psychological need. The fear that he could be so self-serving would prompt a sort of personal crusade that resembled a mental closet being cleaned out, and before long Jyuushirou would be so deep inside his swirling, conflicting thoughts and memories that he ran the risk of going insane altogether.

But in this, Ukitake was luckier than most, for whenever he got into such a mental whirlwind, Shunsui would always show up and take him drinking.

Now, it was a common misconception that Ukitake Jyuushirou hated to drink. This was quite untrue; while Jyuushirou did maintain a rather formal and refined mien he was far from a prude. In fact, it was quite common for him to end a night of administrative work with a quiet sip or two of warm sake to ease a throat sore from coughing all day. If Jyuushirou kept this from his worshipful Third and Fourth seats it was out of consideration for their mental stability, more so than a direct desire to be secretive. _Moderation_ was the key, and in this Ukitake was generally something of a stickler, again more out of necessity than anything else. Careful monitoring of his physical health had saved him from many an avoidable fit of illness, and while this mental watchdogging of himself had become automatic over the years Ukitake remained unwilling to surrender his faculties unnecessarily.

Jyuushirou _drank_, he simply preferred not to _get drunk_, a distinction wholly unacknowledged by his best and dearest friend. Whoever invented the saying "Less is More" never met Kyouraku Shunsui and if they had, they would have reevaluated their philosophy.

Where Shunsui walked, sake followed, or quite possibly the other way around. There was a common rumor that he bathed in the stuff, but this was relatively false. Kyouraku drank more than any soul was capable of comprehending, and not only did he know every single bar and pub and tavern in the entire expanse of the Soul Society, but he had patronized most of them at some time or another. For most people, such a proclivity would have earned nothing more than derision and disgust, the social designation of 'drunkard' being generally inglamorous, but this was not so for Kyouraku. Coupled with a cast-iron liver, Shunsui was born with more charisma than a gaggle of peacocks and it was very nearly impossible for a soul to resist adoring him at some point or another (although his current vice-captain seemed to have managed this pretty well).

Kyouraku was like the sun, blanketing his warm irrepressibility on everyone around him without discrimination, and while Ukitake had long ago developed a certain immunity to this effect, he was particularly susceptible when in the aforementioned mental hurricane. So it was on days like these – and only in such mental states – that Kyouraku ever managed to sweep Ukitake off on a drinking binge.

Over the years the name for such an unlikely outing changed (Night of Drunken Revelry stuck for a while, followed by Sloshing till Sunrise; Handsome Devils on a Rampage for Love was hotly disputed and quickly discarded, although Kyouraku still pouted about it from time to time), but the event remained the same: Ukitake would get himself into a rare funk, Kyouraku would show up unannounced and all but kidnap him from his squad duties, and whisk them both off to Rukongai. An elaborate process of considering drinking establishments would follow before Kyouraku settled on one (always the same one, as it turned out), and they would sit in the private room in the back and order every bottle of sake in the building.

From there, the predictable would happen. Shunsui would drink, Ukitake would drink. They would talk and laugh, drink, and talk some more. Words would get fuzzy, as would memory, and some of both would come out sharper than intended. Sometimes they would shout at each other, fueled by sake and emotions long forgotten. Sometimes the tears would burn hotter than the sake, and they would just sit there quietly together. At some point, Shunsui would always pass out, leaving a still relatively-sober Ukitake to consider the hangover they were both going to have in the morning and wonder if these outings were really worth while. Even souls as powerful as theirs needed some release once in a while, it was true, but it never really changed anything.

So Ukitake thought on his latest outing, the one right before the War. So many things were going on, so much preparation, that a drinking binge was certainly uncalled for. Ukitake could feel fear humming through his squad like a beehive, through his own swirling thoughts, and for once he actually mounted a credible defense against Kyouraku's assertion that it was time to go for a drink. It seemed...inappropriate somehow, to lose themselves in the past when the future was so close to intruding on the present. Still, Kyouraku himself had burned with an almost manic fervor, insisting with a near-desperation that was unusual for him, that drinking was exactly what was needed at a time like this, and with great misgiving Ukitake decided to go along after all.

And in a way, Jyuushirou's foreboding turned out to be true, for that night – for the first time ever – the Night of Drunken Revelry turned out differently than every before and in the process, changed a great many things.

For that was the night that the SWA found them.


	2. Just a Hair

Deep within the bowels of Rukongai sat a small, unassuming sake house known as the Water Well. Unimpressive in almost every respect, the establishment had still enjoyed a prosperous trade for longer than almost anyone could remember. It was widely rumored that the Water Well predated even the Academy, and that the only thing in all of the Wandering Soul Town older than the building itself was its venerable owner, Choyo.

The secret to Old Choyo's success was hardly that and bordered on common knowledge, for the Water Well was the only building outside of Sereitei itself that boasted reiatsu shielding. No one knew how Choyo had managed to get the private room in the back fortified with demon-magic, but there was hardly a shinigami in a mood to party that didn't know about it. As such, that particular room was almost always booked way in advance with high-level - and necissarily wealthy - shinigami who wanted to get away from the staidness of Sereitei for a while. The wait list for a booking was at least a decade out and set in stone besides, Choyo being both adamantly protective of the scheduling and unabashedly charming when turning away disappointed would-be revelers.

With one single exception. Out of the entire roster of the Gotei, only Kyouraku Shunsui was in a position to call in a favor and get an immediate booking. It was a highly prestigious benefit of being older than dirt and known for spending more than a year's salary in a single night of drinking, and Shunsui took care not to bank on it too often.

Which is why he couldn't help but feel slightly miffed when his largesse went rather unappreciated.

"You're not drinking, Jyuu," Shunsui noted with chagrin and a loud slurp at his favorite silver choko. "Is something wrong?"

"It's too hot." Ukitake replied with a poorly-masked frown. Long, elegant fingers fiddled restlessly with a well-worn masu, disturbing the warm liquid it cradled.

Shunsui took another expert sip of sake. "Nonsense. It's going down juuuust fine." With a practiced motion, Kyouraku snagged up a fresh sake jug and had his cup full again almost before it was empty.

Jyuushirou shifted irritably. "That's because you're half-drunk already. How much did you have before you came and got me this afternoon? Honestly, we've only just arrived and you're already sloshed..." He trailed off, a faint wash of color adorning his cheeks.

"You're surprised that I started drinking _early_??" Shunsui arched an eyebrow in astonishment. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm _fine_." Ukitake grumped. As if to make a point, he swiftly downed his drink, grimacing slightly. "Gyah, what did you order?"

At that, Shunsui's curiosity shifted into affronted bewilderment. "Only the _highest_-quality Honjōzō-shu, what else would I order?!" He flailed, rather like a bird with a broken wing. "Jyuu, what the hell has gotten under your haori??"

Jyuushirou rolled his eyes, eyebrows still pinched together as he held out his masu for a refill; Shunsui complied compulsorily. "_Nothing_, Shun. It's just..." A tiny sip, followed by a weaker grimace than before. "Don't you think this is rather inappropriate? There's a _war_ about to come crashing down on us and we're out drinking. Is this really the best use of our time?"

Kyouraku had known Ukitake long enough to know that it was hardly this point that was really bothering him. As such, the best way to bring his issue to the forefront was to annoy the crap out of him. Shunsui slipped into his most irrepressible grin.

"We're facing combat and a high probability of death, destruction and mayhem – what _better_ time to drink??" A wider grin, and a wink for good measure. "Unless, of course, one is feeling amorous and there is a lovely female in the vicinity..."

"And that's another thing!" erupted Ukitake, rather more forcefully than necessary. "It's always just the two of us! Out drinking, like irresponsible school boys! Two old farts and a bottle of sake. Old, stupid stories and memories that no one gives a damn about..." Just as suddenly, he trailed off, sipping his sake and being downright mopish. "Don't you think we're just a hair..._pathetic_?"

_Ah; there's the rub_. Kyouraku knew better than to pounce on the revelation – keep his contemplative friend off-balance, that was the only way to go. He lept to his feet – miraculously, without sending a single drop of sake astray – and threw his arms out wide. "Of course we're not pathetic!! We're Handsome Devils on a Rampage for Loooove-!!" he crooned, in a wildly off-key barroom baritone.

Ukitake expertly poked his friend in the ribs. Hard. "I _hate_ that name, you know that. And knock it off, I'm trying to be serious..."

"And while drinking is indeed a serious business," Kyouraku agreed, deliberately misunderstanding him, "I fail to see your point. You always complain that we drink alone, but you never want to invite everyone along!"

Ukitake twitched, looking cornered. "It's not appropriate to get inebriated in front of subordinates..." he protested weakly.

"_Everyone_ is a 'subordinate' to us!" Kyouraku hollered, without heat; they'd had this particular argument more times than he could count. "Unless you want to go Sloshing with Yama-jii again...."

"No!" Ukitake shuddered at that singular and never to be repeated memory. "That was-"

"Yeah." Shunsui felt rather green around the gills himself, reminiscing in tones of awe. "I've never seen _anyone _drink so much."

"Besides," Ukitake snapped, frantically trying to change the subject. "What good did that do us? Thanks to the Confidentiality agreement, we can't even admit that night ever _happened_." He rubbed his temples in remembered agony. "And I _never_ want to read a legal document while hungover again."

"You actually _read_ that?" Kyouraku replied after a moment, mildly impressed. "I just signed the damn thing; most of the night was a blank to me anyway..."

"You're lucky, trust me." Ukitake swallowed, hard, and tried to clear the echo of eons-old drunken karaoke from his memory banks. "Look, can we please change the subject? We're skirting treason just talking about it."

"Fine," snarled Kyouraku, his mood somewhat soured. He snapped up a sake jug and chugged it empty, determined to get his pleasant buzz back. "But I maintain that you are being quite impossible. You don't want to drink alone, you don't want to drink with anyone else....what other option is there, Jyuu??"

Ukitake sighed, stymied. "I don't know," he admitted, proffering his masu in a minor gesture of defeat. _Something _different _would be nice_...

At that very moment, the door flew open.

Ukitake started and, being rather less adept than Shunsui, spilled sake down the front of himself. In all the centuries during which they had been coming here, Choyo had never allowed the slightest breach in their privacy, and since the reiatsu shielding worked both ways, it took a moment for Ukitake to register their presumptuous intruder.

"What the hell are _you_ two doing here??" In a glorious display of golden curls and cleavage, Matsumoto Rangiku flounced into the middle of the room and planted herself there, hands on hips and frowning prettily.

For a long moment they simply stared at her, blinking in a decidedly owl-like fashion. Shunsui, who was no stranger to dealing with female incursions, recovered first and with an excess of charm.

"I could ask you the same thing, Rangiku-san! What on earth would draw a lovely flower as yourself to such a grubby corner of the Rukongai?" he crooned, trying very hard not to look discovered and stealing a quick look at Ukitake.

Gods only knew where they'd learned to have entire conversations in a single look but it served well here. With an almost imperceptible dip of his chin, Jyuushirou acknolwedged Shunsui's silent entreaty; they would have to play this carefully if they were going to get the effervescent lieutenant to retreat with minimal drama. A few prevarications, an excuse or two, and they could send her packing...

An estimation that turned out to be grossly inaccurate. Rangiku, missing the entire exchange, chattered on with the momentum of a locomotive. "Where else in Rukongai can you find a shielded room but at the Water Well? The _only_ place for shinigami to party – everyone knows that! But it's almost _impossible_ to get a reservation - I've had mine set _forever_ - and now Choyo is trying to be an old stick-in-the-mud and tell me the room is _taken_?? As if I would get the reservation wrong; _clearly_ there's been a double-booking!!" A strangled sound from the doorway revealed a rather horrified Choyo trying ineffectively to shoo her out of the room. Matsumoto threw him a pouty frown that quickly shifted like quicksilver into a brilliant grin. "Ohh, but this is just _perfect_, Kyoura-kun!! Since we're old drinking buddies, we can just _share_ the room!!"

It took all three men a full minute to assimilate the verbal avalanche and begin to splutter in unison.

"I cannot allow you to impose upon my honorable guests-" "I'm not so sure..." "Please, I must insist-!" "Well, you see, Rangiku-san, we can't..." "...it wouldn't be appropriate...."

"Oh, pshaw," Matsumoto breezed right over them all, looking puzzled at the captain's reticence. "Ukitake-kun, we've drunk together _tons_ of times, why should this be any different??"

"Well, er..." Quite trapped by this truth, Jyuushirou shot a hunted look at Shunsui.

"Ahh...well, the thing is..." Kyouraku's sake-sodden mind raced. "It's the high-quality sake, you see?? Veritable truth serum. All we end up doing is babbling about old war stories, you'd be bored out of your mind."

"Oooh, old war stories??" bubbled Rangiku with enough sweetness to put gum to shame. "_Really_?? Oh my gods, I bet you guys have the _best_ stories!!" She fairly vibrated with eager glee.

"They're _really_ not interesting_._" Ukitake threw Shunsui a glare; so much for the attempt to bore her into leaving. "I'm sure you'd be much happier...anywhere else." This was said with a marked lack of subtlety - totally unlike Ukitake, but he was rather flustered at the moment. An epically awkward pause followed, pronounced enough for even Matsumoto to pick up on it.

So," she replied slowly, descending into an adorably hurt expression. "You want me to go away? And just leave you two here to drink? All _alone_?" A dubiously arched blond eyebrow had Ukitake thinking of an earlier comment on pathetic old men drinking by themselves.

That quickly, Jyuushirou realized he was completely and utterly trapped - by his own pride, if nothing else. With a small sigh he gave into the inevitable.

"No, you're right. That hardly sounds like fun. And since there does seem to be a scheduling issue," Ukitake offered a reassuring glance at Old Choyo, "it presents a logical solution. Matsumoto-chan, of course you are welcome to join us." Deftly ignoring the surprised look on Shunsui's face as well as the gratefully abashed one on Choyo's, Jyuushirou stifled his own deep-seated misgivings. So, for once they would have company - was that such a bad thing, really? They might even benefit from some female chatter; it certainly had to be better than listening to each other tell the same stories over and over.

"I _knew_ you would see it my way!!" Matsumoto exulted, several of her features flouncing at the motion. "Oh, this is going to be SO much fun! Just let me run and get everyone else...!!"

Even Kyouraku froze at that.

"Eh...everyone else?" Shunsui repeated weakly; from under his wide-brimmed hat, Ukitake could see the whites of his eyes.

"Of course, silly!" Rangiku giggled as she traipsed towards the door. "The Shinigami Women's Associate has been planning this Girl's Night Out for _years_, but I'm sure they won't mind if you handsome gentlemen join us!" With a wink and shrill whistle, she disappeared.

"Uhm, er....thanks?" Ukitake felt his mouth closing and opening, rather like a fish, and turned to find an equally side-swiped Kyouraku gaping back at him. "Shun, what the hells just happened??"

"Ahhhh, what can I say Jyuush; when you're out with me, women are bound to find us! It's like bees to honey - a terrible burden, but I do my best to bear it." Narcissistic grin aside, he shot Ukitake a sharp glance from under wide hat brim. "We could just split, you know - they'd never be able to follow us..."

"And spend the next month convincing Kiyone that we didn't ditch her, or the SWA that it wasn't anything personal?" Ukitake sighed. "No, best to just endure as we can. We can always excuse ourselves later, if we must." He then straightened immaculate robes and threw a cautionary glare at Shunsui. "Watch your sake intake. And for gods sakes, keep the embarrassing stories to a minimum." Even as he said it, something sank in his bowels; might as well ask the sun not to shine.

Sure enough, Kyouraku's expression turned wicked. "Oh, so I can't tell them about-?"

"NO."

"What about the time-?"

"Absolutely _not_."

"Not even-?!"

"_Especially_ not that!" Ukitake's glare heated. "Shun, I have to work tomorrow, you know!"

"Bah, call in sick. I always do, and your excuses would be far more convincing." Kyouraku rubbed his hands in masochistic delight. "Jyuush my friend, I do believe we are in for an interesting evening!"

Before Ukitake so let out more than a low groan, the SWA arrived in all its feminie glory. Or rather, they were herded in like a bunch of terrified sheep, Matsumoto shoving them ahead of her with determined fervor.

"Of COURSE they said it was ok, sillies!! Come on, they're just captains, they don't bite or anything..."

"Not generally, no," Soi Fon agreed dryly, striding in without need of encouragement. Tossing a studiously nonchalant wave at her colleagues, she plunked herself down on a cushion and helped herself to the low table covered with assorted nibbles. "And we _do _go out and have fun sometimes, dammit..." She muttered, blushing faintly at what had clearly been a point of contention at some earlier conversation.

Sure enough, Matsumoto rolled her eyes. "See?? If_ Soi Fon _can let loose, of all people, then so can other captains. Get in here already!" Ignoring the glare from the Second captain behind her, Rangiku physically hauled Kiyone Kotetsue into the room.

The poor girl was practically furrowing the floor with her heels, eyes wide as saucers. The moment she was inside, she flushed crimson and threw herself to the tatami mats. "I'm s-s-so sorry, Ukitake-tachio!! It wasn't MY idea to ruin your evening!!" A tiny peek at his sake cup had her squeaking in horror and burrowing her face in her hands.

Ukitake rolled his eyes and breathed a well-practiced sigh that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. "Good grief, Kotetsu-san, get up." Jyuushirou blushed, wondering how the evening had gone so wrong, so quickly. "It's fine, really - you're welcome to join us."

That quickly, mortification turned to hero-worship. "Reeeeeally?"

A notably more composed Kuchiki Rukia arrived to peel her subordinate off the floor. "If the captain says it's alright, then it's all right," she intoned solemnly, glancing at her taicho for confirmation. At his nod, she smiled in a certain amount relief, although she at least seemed to catch wind of the underlying reluctance and had enough grace to look apologetic as she settled herself and Kiyone onto the cushions.

Then it was Matsumoto's turn to roll eyes. "See, I told you so," she insisted, gesturing through the doorway for stragglers. "Get in here, honestly! You guys are acting like total nincompoops!"

Isane and Nemu made a comparatively quiet entrance, shy and meek by turns. In fact, their entrance would have gone entirely unnoticed if not for the tiny figure trying ineffectively to hide behind them.

Launching himself to his feet, Kyourakou threw out his arms in delight, spraying a wide arc of sake as he did so. "I speak of bees, and lo appears their queen!" In a swirl of pink silk, he dove between Nemu and Isane and swooped his vice-captain into an exuberant bear-hug. "Lovely-lovely Nanao-chan, how cuuute that you cannot go a single evening without me-!!" With a yelp he leapt back almost as quickly, nursing a hip. Around Nanao's hand, licks of electricity sparkled dangerously.

"Get off me, you big pervert!" Isa snarled, blushing furiously. "As if I would _want _to spend the evening with my boss!!"

Kyouraku whimpered, a sound fit to break the hearts of puppy dogs and fluffy bunnies. "Soooo cruel, my sweet Nanao-chan..."

"I am NOT your Nanao-chan!" she added emphatically as her face turned a splotchy red color. "What I am, is _leaving_!"

Matsumoto jumped to the rescue, pouncing on Nanao and shoving a cup of sake in her hand. "You can't go yet, we've been planning this outing FOREVER!!" Nanao still looked fit to have an apoplexy, but Rangiku was having none of it, steering Nanao firmly into the room and all but shoving her to a seat. "You can't ditch your fellow SWA members now!! Besides, Kyoura-kun and Ukitake-kun have promised to tell us some of their war stories!!" She settled herself in between Nemu and a very bouncy Yachiru, who was far too excited to realize that her 'sake cup' was really a sippy ingeniously filled with apple juice.

"Yaaaaaay Whitey-chan!!" She waved her little pink cup around wildly. "Tell us one with a happy ending, kay?? LOTS of blood and gore!!!"

Ukitake and Shunsui exchanged a dismayed look. "Uh, suuuure." Even Kyouraku, still nursing his stinging hip, looked slightly taken aback.

A long, expectant silence followed, during which Ukitake and Shunsui drew complete and utter blanks.

Ukitake burst out laughing first. "You know, I have no idea where to begin?" he admitted, cheeks pinking.

Matsumoto just shrugged and polished off a bottle of sake with a smack. "Just start at the beginning!" she suggested, already exuding a faintly intoxicated aire. "I mean, you guys met at the Academy, right? I bet you were _instant _best friends!"

"Of course we were," replied Jyuushirou automatically, overlapping Kyouraku's simultaneous response.

"_Hells _no." Every gaze in the room flew in Shunsui's direction. "I distinctly remember hating your guts."

Ukitake looked every bit as surprised as everyone else. "_Huh_?"

"Sure," Kyouraku returned, unabashed. "You were an obnoxious little prick, ya know."

"He was??" Rangiku seemed utterly delighted by this, jumping to her feet and offering sake refills around the room.

"I was not!" Ukitake spluttered, drawing himself up in dignified affront. "I was a model student-!"

"See what I mean?" Kyouraku cut him off with a wink. "Obnoxious as all hell." Despite their initial discomfort, several female titters broke out across the room, fueling his glee.

"Fiddlesticks!" Ukitake fumed, launching himself down well-worn memory lanes and adopting his lectern voice. "I remember it like it was yesterday...."


	3. First Day

"Young master, I _do_ wish you would stop fidgeting. You're going to work yourself into a frenzy."

Jyuushirou rolled his eyes and let out the biggest possible sigh. Though he was not inclined to disobedience - even this small rebellion pricked his conscience - the eldest Ukitake son still could hardly find it within himself to sit still today. Drawing back the curtain that enshrouded his _jinrikisha,_ his wide hazel eyes peered eagerly at the unfamiliar scenery flashing by.

Katashi blew out into his thin, grey mustaches and reached a gnarled hand across the small space to yank the fabric back into place. "Young master, _please_."

"I want to _see_," Jyuushirou insisted. He'd never been to this area of the Soul Society - hell, he'd hardly been _anywhere_ but Ugendo in the last ten years - and the curiosity was nearly painful.

"You will have plenty of time to see the Sereitei when there is no dust flying about, sir," Katashi explained with long-suffering tones in his thin voice. "Unless you wish to begin your academic career with a fit."

Jyuushirou clamped his teeth together audibly, his lips twisting into a wretched frown, and slumped back against the seat cushions. He _hated_ that reason; it usually came between him and anything he really wanted to do, and there was no arguing it. Especially not today. Today represented the first chance in a decade to be seen as _normal_, and Jyuushirou wasn't going to waste the opportunity. In fact, if he could get through the next few months without ever publicly succumbing to his illness – possible, given his recent bout of good health – he would thank the gods a million times over. He had paid extra homage to them for the last month, begging their good blessings; it wouldn't be prudent to press their goodwill so soon.

So Jyuushirou let his head fall back against the cushions, closed his eyes, and _listened_.

An ocean of sound reached his ears, filling Jyuushirou's mind with a flurry of mental pictures, letting him imagine the world around him by hearing alone. He had taught himself this particular trick years ago. It helped pass countless, _endless_ afternoons lying helplessly in bed, listening to his brothers and sisters play outside his window with all the energy and youthful vigor he himself lacked. After a while, as he got good at inventing entire cinemas in his mind, he would beg his siblings to play near his rooms as loudly as possible, their inventive games proving a delightful distraction to Jyuushirou's painfully bored mind. It drove his mother positively to distraction to have his peace and quiet invaded, but when he was too weak to read, it was the only entertainment available.

All that would change now. This time Jyuushirou would not have to imagine an adventure. He would just have to survive it. No, he could do better than that. Chances were, this next year was quite possibly the only real _life_ Jyuushirou would ever have; he would not waste a second of it.

Jyuushirou knew the moment they approached the Academy's walls. The newly-founded learning center was the subject of no little consternation and scandal in the Sereitei, and as such was largely shunned by the nobility and military alike, neither one of them willing embrace a standardized curriculum. Not only was the Academy challenging eons-worth of tradition, the passing down of training and education being as varied and jealously guarded as any family heirloom, but it was open to - horror or horrors - _commoners_. Had it only been the first issue, the already-legendary leader Yamamoto Genruusai could have probably barreled through with his agenda, just as he and the other great warlords and steamrolled through the ancient ways to create Sereitei in the first place, mere decades ago. But the inclusion of commoners was not to be borne, and only the very bravest nobles dared raise their voices in anything but dissension, much less allow their sons and daughters to attend.

The bravest, or the poorest. The Ukitake family was not affluent or large enough to make any waves by embracing the possibilities the new Academy offered. If anything they were curious but disinterested - at least, such was the case with every member of the family except for the one son who had every reason in the world to pass on ambition.

Which was exactly why Jyuushirou _had_ to go, why he had fought long and hard for his parent's permission – well, his father's anyway. His mother was quite another matter, refusing to see her son as belonging anywhere but safe at home. The Academy was an upstart, an undesired element considered useless and irrelevant; it accepted anyone and everyone no matter how great or lowly, so long as they were willing to learn.

Jyuushirou could hardly imagine a place where he belonged more.

The streets had grown quiet outside their conveyance, leaving the walls of the Academy enveloped in a heavy silence. No one wanted to be anywhere near the complex, either through hatred or fear, and the businesses and housing complexes that made up the Sereitei vanished in a wide berth. The silence magnified the sound of the great, heavy gate doors swinging open, and then they were through. Jyuushirou hadn't realized he was holding his breath – his hindbrain minutely terrified that this opportunity would vanish like smoke at the last possible second – until he was inside the Academy walls.

Once inside, it was a whole other story. As if trying to make up for the silence outside, the main courtyard echoed with the murmurs of excited students on their first day. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Jyuu threw back the curtain and took in the scene with huge eyes. Dozens of souls near his own age mingled about in a frenzied bustle, their eyes as big as Jyuu's and shining with the same anticipatory gleam. Though he searched, Jyuushirou did not recognize a single noble yukakta among the throng; this year's entering class was either entirely commoner, or the nobles had no desire to arrive so early – a distinct possibility, and one Jyuushirou should have thought of. He felt a momentary pang of self-consciousness at his own robes, hardly sumptuous but well-tailored enough to set him apart from the rough garb of the Rukongians around him. So much for trying to appear 'normal'. But then he shoved the thought aside; his clothes were an easy enough fix, and what truly marked him as unusual could not be seen today.

As the _jinrikisha _slowed to a halt, Jyuushirou took an experimental deep breath – without a hitch, thank all the gods in heaven – and leaped out onto the courtyard. A throat cleared behind him, indicating Katashi's displeasure, but Jyuushirou neatly ignored him, grinning ear to ear. Now that he was among the crowd, he could indeed see one or two _jinrikisha _like his own rolling through the open gates. He wouldn't be the only noble in the new class then, that was a relief.

Not that he had much time to worry; wending among the excited newcomers were half a dozen souls already dressing in school yukata. Clearly upper-classmen, they were doing a credible job of rounding up new students, checking them off on their scroll lists, and issuing crisp orders. One of them descended on Jyuushirou nearly as soon as he got out of his cart.

"Ukitake Jyuushirou?" A tall, olive-skinned boy hardly a year or two older than Ukitake himself addressed him in a no-nonsense tone.

'Yes," Jyuushirou replied, rather startled. _How did he know my...?_

"White hair's hard to miss on someone your age," the upperclassman noted, as if reading Jyuushirou's mind.

Chagrined, Ukitake felt his cheeks warming. "Oh."

The Academy student's expression didn't change a whit, but his eyes seemed amused. "Report to room 1B by the top of the hour for orientation. Before that you will need to stop over at the exchange for your uniform..."

Jyuushirou was already nodding; not only had he poured over Academy procedures for months, but he'd also memorized the campus map. A necessity for someone who needed to know the shortest possible routes between locations. The exchange wasn't terribly far away, building 1 just beyond it. _ Shouldn't be too much exertion_....

'"But before _that_, you are summoned to the captain-commander's private study."

Ukitake's lungs lurched to a painful halt. "What? Why?"

The upperclassman's face remained carefully blank. "It is the duty of Academy students to follow orders, not question them."

Jyuushirou swallowed audibly, his pallor slowly fading until it nearly matched his hair. He nodded dumbly once, feeling as if he had already failed his first test. The upperclassman moved on, his face still stern even if there was a hint of sympathy in the set of his mouth.

Quickly, Jyuushirou re-evaluated his morning. _If I_ _skip the exchange and go straight to the captain-commander's office _– it was impossible to think of the man's name without losing all his nerve – _then I can grab my uniform in the few minutes before class..._. It would be a hustle, especially since he had no way at all to know how long the terrifying creator of the Academy would keep him, but it wasn't as if he had a choice. A summons from Yamamoto-dono was _not_ to be ignored.

"Young master, perhaps I shall accompany you...?" Katashi murmured quietly, his sharp eyes picking up on his young charge's distress.

"Don't be ridiculous," Jyuushirou returned, a little sharper than he intended. He could imagine few things more embarrassing than having an elderly servant follow him around the grounds on his first day of school. "I mean, it would be far more helpful if you could go on ahead and settle my rooms," he went on lamely, trying to make amends.

At Katashi's bow, Jyuushirou grimaced before hurrying off at the fastest pace he dared. _Barely here two minutes, and I'm already getting singled out..._. Jyuushirou shook his head at himself, grit his teeth and focused on finding the shortest possible route to the administrative buildings.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of a massive door, rather more out of breath than he preferred to be. He tried to tell himself it was just exertion, but the hand that knocked on the door was shaking. He got a firm grip on himself and reached for the strongest lungful he could muster.

"Ukitake Jyuushirou, reporting as requested, sir," he announced with credible volume. It was a long moment before the door slowly swung open; as it did Jyuushirou felt a tiny bead of sweat trickle down his back.

"_Enter_."

The word was rumbled out like a box of rocks falling over. Swallowing hard and praying his forehead wasn't as visibly damp as it felt, Jyuushirou stepped inside.

The interior of the small, dark office was objectively unimpressive. One massive desk took up most of the room and was covered with scrolls, piled high in a manner that suggested an organized if somewhat overwhelmed workload. The rest of the room was wall-to-wall bookcases, overflowing with scrolls and texts and bound books. More books than Jyuushirou had ever seen in his entire life, and that was saying quite a bit considering how much of a bookworm Ukitake was known to be. He had no time to gape at them, however, for the room's single other occupant demanded his full attention.

Yamamoto Genruusai, the force of nature that had torn up the Soul Society and remolded it in his own image, sat at the desk, looking as out of place as a grizzly bear in a council chamber. His famously bald pate gleamed in the low light that trickled through a high window, the signature black beard tied in an intricate pattern below thick mustaches. Across his forehead, a 4-pointed scar glared an angry red; it was hard not to stare at it. Jyuushirou had heard childhood stories about what had caused such a ghastly wound on a reputably near-impervious man. Most of the stories were fictions designed to terrify children into obedience, and every single one of them swirled up in Jyuushirou's mind. He suddenly felt quite faint, and begged the gods he would not disgrace himself by passing out.

Yamamoto didn't help, hardly taking notice of Jyuushirou's entrance for a long while. The soft scritching of his quill filled the room. Finally, he put down his writing instrument and leaned back in his chair, eyes closed by all appearances.

"Ukitake Jyuushirou." The rumble was even scarier in close quarters.

It was all Jyuu could do not to squeak. "Yes, sir."

Yamamoto reached out a calloused hand gnarled with muscle to pick up a small piece of parchment of the desk. "Do you know what this is?"

This time swallowing wasn't an option; Jyuu's throat felt like it was full of cement. "No, sir," he managed.

"This is a letter from your mother, explaining to me exactly why I should turn you right around this instant and send you back home."

All of a sudden, Jyuushirou went from trying to get words out to trying to keep them in. He actually bit his tongue, fury licking through his veins. "I see. Sir," he added, belatedly.

A tiny gleam; it must have been a trick of the light, but one crinkled eye seemed to be peeked open the tiniest slit. "It goes on to explain, that should I choose to allow you to stay, all the ways in which you would be a liability to this establishment, your teachers and every single one of your classmates. Your future brothers and sisters in arms."

Jyuushirou felt his heart pounding, the unfamiliar sensation of shame and betrayal burning in his veins. He knew his mother hadn't been happy about the Academy, but going behind his back like this was shameful, even for her. It was all he could do to keep the murderous expression from his face, and he didn't even know if he was succeeding all that well.

"Well," Yamamoto growled after a moment of silence. "Are you indeed sick?"

Jyuushirou picked his words very carefully. "At times," he replied slowly. "Sir, I can study just as well as any other student..."

"This is a _military_ school," Yamamoto barked. "Intellectual pursuits are only one-third of the curriculum. How do you intend to survive the kendo and kidou elements of this establishment?"

There it was again – _survive_. Only that? "I am capable of anything I set my mind to," Ukitake snapped, his tone molten fury. After a second he remembered where he was and his cheeks reddened, but he refused to back down. Another long pause, as terror slowly wormed into his fury. "Are you sending me home, sir?" he finally asked, forcing his tone to be properly submissive even if he couldn't quite mask the edge of desperation.

Yamamoto grunted, and if it weren't for the mustaches Jyuu might have imagined the tiniest curling at the corner of the severe mouth. "I read your application letters. You have a sharp mind, a notable grasp of kanji and phrasing. You have determination, to get your application past such a reluctant family." Jyuushirou held his breath, hardly daring to hope. Sure enough, the almost-praising tone turned cold again. "Yet, you cannot deny that you bring with you some unavoidable complications."

Jyuushirou felt a wave of nausea, the familiar helplessness threatening to crash down on him again. _Must it always come down to this?_ "I am smart, as you said. I have had some learning at home, and I read a lot. Sir. I have plenty of time to read, usually," he continued, managing a weak smile. Then he let determination harden his features. "But I also have spirit power, and while I do not know my potential I am stronger than I look. I _need_ this training. What's more – you need _me_." Black eyebrows scrabbled up the craggy face of the captain-commander as Jyuushirou rushed on. "You have plenty of strong students, but almost none of them are noble. What I lack in physical ability, I make up for in endorsement."

"Ukitake clan is among the lowest caste," Yamamoto commented, unimpressed.

"Higher than the Choshi or Komatsuzaki clans," Jyuushirou fired back, his mind scrambling to remember and decipher the clan insignia on the _jinrikisha_ that had arrived behind his. "In fact, statistically, your students are mostly Rukongian. The fact that they do just as well as the noble students – _better_, in some cases – only hurts what you're trying to do here. The nobles take offense, and refuse to send their offspring as students to be bettered by commoners." _What am I doing?? I'm _arguing _with the captain-freaking-commander..._. Jyuushirou threw out his final bargaining chip before his better sense could catch up with his mouth. "What better to have in your roster than a noble who has an excuse to be weak? If I fail to live up to the Academy's standards, it can be blamed on the...._illness_." Jyuushirou's mouth twisted to spit out the bitter word. "Not on the Academy's training. And if I _best_ them, it will salve the noble egos _and_ reflect well on this school in one fell swoop. You have nothing to lose, sir." His eyes burned with the last shreds of his resolve.

The silence that followed was terrible. Jyuu felt like someone was sitting on his chest, and for once it had nothing to do with his lungs. Breathless, he waited.

An odd sound finally filled the room; it took Ukitake a moment to realize Yamamoto was chuckling softly. "You are indeed more formidable that one would think. Your resolve serves you well, and your mind is sharper than a zanpaktou." One more sharp, quick bark of a laugh and Yamamoto sat forward in his seat. Picking up his quill again, Yamamoto dipped into the inkwell and muttered into his mustaches. "I do not envy those who would underestimate you, young Ukitake." Quiet scritching started up again.

Slowly, Jyuushirou remembered how to breathe. The suspense was physically painful. "Uhm, sir? Are you, uhm...." He couldn't get the words out.

"You will miss your class if you sit here wondering much longer." Without looking up, Yamamoto managed to be intimidating and still radiate amusement.

"You're letting me stay?" Jyuushirou gasped, his mind reeling with relief.

"That will be up to you," Yamamoto grumbled. "There will be no coddling – this is a _military_ Academy. You will be treated the same as any other student. Whether or not you stay depends entirely upon your resolve to work as hard as your classmates."

There was a terrible moment while Jyuushirou struggled not to disgrace himself. "Thank you, sir." He bowed quickly and slipped out the door on trembling legs before the pricking in his eyes could form into tears.

Outside, he drew huge gulps of air into his burning lungs. He felt dizzy with relief. _I'll stay. I'll work just as hard – _harder – _than anyone else. You'll see._

"Young master?" The quiet, thin voice of Katashi broke into his dazed joy. "My apologies, sir – I seem to have disobeyed your orders...." Silently, he held out a folded piece of cloth. Jyuushirou blinked, staring at the school uniform for a moment before he realized what it was. "If you do not delay, sir, you can change and still get to class without running."

Once again immensely grateful, Ukitake wondered how much more excitement he could take in one morning as he grabbed the clothing and took off for the nearest water closet to change.

* * *

He got to class only seconds before it was called to order, slipping gratefully to his knees at an open spot at the back of the small room. There were a dozen other students already present, looking equal parts excited and scared. Jyuushirou glanced about, but couldn't pick out whether or not any of the other nobles were in this class; the crisp, white uniforms made everyone look of a same level. Jyuushirou found that immensely relieving.

At the front of the room stood a pretty young girl in the robes of an upperclassman. Jet-back hair fell in a short, simple braid over one shoulder, her enormous eyes a dark enough blue to look almost purple. But beyond her obvious beauty, what Jyuushirou noticed the most was her smile. Serene and gentle, the girl's expression exuded a kind of stern grace that demanded rapt attention. Indeed, it was only a moment or two more before she called the room to order, without saying a word. She simply smiled quietly, and before long the last few murmurs died out and everyone watched her expectantly.

The smile twitched a centimeter higher and became truly welcoming. "Hello, class. Your honorable instructor, Nakae-sensei, is tending to a student injury and will be along in a moment." She paused for a moment while the class absorbed that sombering news, but before anyone could do more than blink, she smiled again. "I am here to orient you to your new life here at the Academy. My name is Unohana Retsu. As of today, you are the official entering class of the Tenth year of the Academy. From now on you will be referred to as Tenth for all grade designations..." Barely into the opening of her speech, a loud crash cut her off. Everyone jumped.

"Driiiiiiiiink sake, drink saaaaaake!" A raucous, ear-splitting and wildly off-key baritone voice bellowed with gusto right outside the building, loud enough to shake the shoji screens. "If you drink, you'll win thiiiiiis, the finest spear in aaaaaaall Japan-!" A second later, a final student entered the room. Well, not so much entered as crashed into the doorframe, bouncing off of it before grabbing on for support. Uniform akimbo, the tall boy with chocolate-colored hair promptly recovered, leaning casually against the door as if he'd meant to do that.

"Well, helloooo," he crooned. His brown eyebrows wiggled, setting one or two of the female students giggling.

"May we help you?" Unohana hadn't moved a hair during the debacle, and though her face retained the same serene expression, something in the soft voice managed to be quite frightening.

Jerking his head around, the dark-haired boy seemed to work a long hard moment to get his eyes to focus on anything. "Hm. Roomful of saps, blank walls, scrolls...nope! I'm right where I'm supposed to be, thank you." Grinning from ear to ear, he rustled around in his obi for a moment. "Don't worry, I'm here – class can start now." Finding his sought object, he pulled what could only be a sake jug out and took a long swig.

"Student, are you _drunk_?" Unohana asked, her tone getting quieter and somehow even more terrifying.

"Not yet," the boy asserted, taking another sip. "Don't worry, this should do it." He made to take another sip, but was forestalled as the jug exploded in his hand. Quite effectively wearing his former beverage, the boy adopted the saddest expression Jyuushirou had ever seen. "Why would you DO that?" he wailed at Unohana, dripping pathetically.

"If you'd care to take a seat and pay attention, you will at least learn _how_," the teaching assistant replied pointedly.

The curly-haired boy contemplated this, staring at his empty hand with a blank expression for about half a second. Finally, he shrugged and threw his arms wide open, grinning madly. "Very well, you've utterly seduced me. I simply cannot refuse a beautiful woman anything," he purred, padding unsteadily into the room, singing under his breath. "Oooooh, there's a storm in the piiines and wind in the moooountains...." He plopped himself down on the ground gracelessly right next to Jyuushirou, halting his song long enough to mutter at himself. "Or is it storm in the mountains and sake in the pines? Huh, can't ever keep that verse straight..."

Unohana raised a single eyebrow at his quick submission, and even Jyuushirou felt himself gaping at the unfathomable creature that now knelt at his side. Noticing the blank surprise on everyone's faces, the boy leaned over and whispered dramatically in Jyuushirou's ear, loud enough to wake the dead. "As long as I'm here, I might as well sneak in some naptime."

Shocked, the entire class turned to see what the teaching assistant's reaction would be. Oddly enough, she seemed as if she was trying not to laugh. "If you could manage to stay awake for the next five minutes, you will get to meet the instructor. If you can sleep through Nakae-dono's lesson without him flaying you alive, I will do your homework myself," she finished dryly.

"Done!" The boy cried; he winked licentiously. "I'll even let you do it in my room; that way, _everybody _wins..." He wiggled his eyebrows in a decidedly lewd manner.

Jyuushirou felt as if his jaw couldn't drop any further open. Having been raised in a strict home, he could hardly imagine such behavior in public - and directed at a superior no less! Jyuushirou felt his cheeks warming.

Just then, a man who could only be Nakae-dono himself swept into the room. The spiritual pressure surrounding him was undeniable, thickening the air in the room and drawing a perfect silence, even from the chaotic boy who'd made such an entrance. He took in the classroom with little more than a raised eyebrow and a scathing glare at the curly-haired boy. Jyuushirou wondered if they knew each other somehow. The boy simply smiled back beatifically and said not a word. Finally, Nakae-dono grunted.

"I hope you lot have a few more brain-cells than last year's crop, or this is going to be a long-ass year." He then proceeded to bark out incomplete kidou incantations in a rapid-fire manner, sending every student in the room scrabbling for writing materials as soon as they realized that they were being given an assignment. Thanking the gods for his excellent audial memory, Jyuushirou was one of the last to get his writing instruments in order but easily captured every spell on paper before he could forget them. Once he had them written down, he got to work, bending over his parchment and working swiftly, the very tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.

He was halfway done before he noticed the soft scritching to his left. The last person he could imagine would be diving into their current assignment was the wild-haired boy, and prompted by a streak of curiosity Jyuushirou peeked at the boy's parchment. No way could he have gotten more than one or two of the incantations written down, much less solved them accurately....

What he saw on the other parchment made Jyuushirou freeze in shock. Every chant. Half of them solved. Correctly. Jyuushirou's mouth kicked into gear before his brain recovered.

"You're _copying_ me??" Not said particularly loudly, it was still enough to resonate throughout the silent room.

"Shut _up_," the curly-haired boy murmured darkly, making a show of looking studious.

Nakae-dono was standing in front of them both before either one of them could blink. "What's going on here?" the instructor's face was turning purple with rage.

Instantly, the curly-haired boy adopted an expression of bewildered innocence that would have made the gods weep. "Honorable teacher, this young man asked if he could copy my work, and I politely declined." Big brown eyes, wide with innocence, blinked once. "Was that wrong?"

Jyuushirou thought he would swallow his tongue. "You did _not!_ _You're_ copying _me_!"

With the utmost audacity, the curly-haired boy met his furious glare. "Prove it," he replied in the most benign manner possible.

Before Jyuushirou could do more than splutter in rage, Nakae-dono broke in. "Enough! Kyouraku, I'd recognize you from a mile away and blindfolded. You're the spitting image of your father, though I daresay he'd disown you to see your behavior right now."

The boy from Kyouraku clan fielded the insult with nary a flinch. "I daresay he would – he's quite in the habit of disowning me whenever the opportunity presents itself." And then he grinned irrepressibly.

Apparently, that's all Nakae-dono needed. His enormous hand clamped down on Kyouraku's collar and lifted him effortlessly, shaking him like a rag-doll. "If you think your wild shenanigans will stand in my class, you are _sorely _mistaken!" With that, he dragged Kyouraku across the classroom and bodily threw him out the door, whirling to address his assistant teacher. "He's to go _straight _to Yamamoto's office – make sure he gets there without delay. And without drinking any more, he stinks like a winehouse already. Pat him down if you have to."

With a nod and a tiny smile, Unohana flitted out the door. A moment later, Jyuushirou could hear the Kyouraku boy making one final ass of himself.

"Did I hear something about a pat-down..?!"

"_KYOURAKU_!" Nakae-dono roared. Unohana wisely took action, the whisper of kidou signaling her departure with the troublemaker.

Wondering just how much crazy could be crammed into one day, Jyuushirou turned back to his kidou assignments, trying very hard not to succumb to an inexplicable fit of the giggles.


	4. He said, HE said

_"Preposterous!"_

The horrified shriek stopped Ukitake's story short and made everyone in the small room nearly jump out of their skins.

"Jyuushirou, you should be ashamed at such falsehood! You mischaracterize me heinously. I had no idea you were capable of such betrayal!" Shunsui cried, slumping dramatically to the floor at his vice-captain's feet. "However will I bear the pain?!"

Without a word, Nanao dumped her cup of sake in his face.

Kyouraku licked his lips. "Hrm, that'll do."

Ukitake rolled his eyes. "I'm just telling it how I remember it," he pouted.

"Well, your memory has gotten shoddy with age, my dear Jyuu - that's the only explanation," replied Kyouraku, hauling himself back to his feet and refilling not only his sake cup but Nanao's as well. "Do not believe such obvious lies, my sweet Nanao-chan..."

"Oh _sure_ - you showing up late _and _drunk, flirting with the first skirt you see and taking credit for someone else's paperwork. What a stretch." Nanao pointedly slid her glasses back up her nose.

Shunsui resorted to his infamous puppy-dog look; his bottom lip actually quivered. "So cruel, sweet-"

"Nanao-chan," Yachiru piped up, blithely ignorant. "Doesn't Pinky-chan do that all the time?" A moment of silence, while everyone blinked. Yachiru grinned, gleeful to be the center of attention. "Pinky-chan is always drunk, Whitey-chan is always sick...."

"I am _not_ always sick!" Ukitake protested.

"I'm not _always _drunk!!" Shunsui echoed. Nanao-chan delivered him a swift kick to the ribs.

"I made it through that whole semester without a single fit..." Ukitake continued, downright mopish now.

Shunsui blinked at him. "You had the one."

"I did not!"

"You did too - how else did I find out??"

Ukitake glared for a moment before his face crumpled in confusion. "Was that first year...?"

"Yep. It was right before-"

"Oh, yeah. But that was all _your_ fault!"

"Was _not_!" Shunsui hollered back, flailing. "I never asked for your help - I was trying to ruin your life at the time, remember??"

"Is _that _what you were doing?" Ukitake returned, his forehead crinkling. "I thought I just had the worst luck in the world that year..."

"Could ONE of you please grace us with some details!?" Matsumoto finally broke in with an exasperated sigh.

"Fine," Shunsui replied, his expression fiercely determined. "But _I'm_ telling it. The way it _really_ happened...."


	5. Pranks, Part 1

"Ladies - it is time for me to depart!"

A chorus of desultory groans met this unlikely announcement as Kyouraku Shunsui went about addressing the gaggle of disappointed females clustered around him in various states of inebriation.

He started clucking almost immediately. "I know, I know – and _any_ other day you know I would stay longer..."

"Shun-kun, you can't leave _now_; the sun is barely up!" a curvaceous blonde pouted.

A slender brunette chimed in, pursing her lips into a wicked grin. "And we've only _just _gotten started."

Shunsui dropped a firm kiss on those plump lips but drew back, tapping the girl on her upturned nose. "You're just going to have to wait until tonight, precious."

"Ha!" a delicious little redhead piped in. "You won't be back anytime soon, Kyouraku-san!"

The brunette was already nodding in agreement. "Trust us – _all_ the boys who go to Academy positively vanish. Old man Yama doesn't let _any_ of his students out to play." Her pout became more pronounced.

The blonde giggled. "They make up for lost time when they graduate, though." She grinned wickedly and blushed in a ridiculously appealing manner.

"Ah, but those are just _boys_," Kyouraku grinned at her, with a manly wink. "My little lamb, if you think I will make it through more than a _single_ day of school without getting kicked out, you vastly underestimate me."

That set them all giggling, which was a sight far too appealing for Shunsui to simply pass on. It was several minutes – and more than a few tongued tonsils – before he finally staggered out of the Court of Cherry Blossoms, tugging his robes sloppily into place. He took in the ever-lightening sky above and drew a deep breath, enjoying the fleeting freedom. A long moment passed before Kyouraku turned slightly, addressing the deeply-shadowed alleyway to his right.

"Doing your duty, Yemon?"

There was a momentary pause before a figure slowly emerged from the darkness. "As always, sir. As should you."

Shunsui's lips twisted wryly; Yemon wasn't even trying to be subtle today. Not entirely a shock, but inconvenient. He shifted his expression into injured pride. "I _am_ being dutiful! I got up before noon, didn't I?"

The servant's rely was drier than a desert in summertime. "There is more required of you today than simply arising. Sir."

Shunsui rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Military school. Got it. Even _I_ can follow instructions that simple." He grinned in a way that had been known to irritate devout monks. "You were sent to babysit me, I take it?"

"I'm here to make sure you don't throw away your entire future to a night of carousing," Yemon growled.

"I had to have one last night on the town, didn't I?" Shunsui shot back, sticking his thumbs into his obi in the most carefree manner possible. Taking off in a jaunty lope, he was halfway down the block before Yemon could watch his expression twist into a scowl. Obnoxiously enough, the old servant had a point, bringing to mind the very reason why today was different from any other day for the spoiled, licentious noble. The Kyouraku clan leader's imperious voice from mere days ago echoed through Shunsui's head:

"_You will attend the Academy or you are disinherited. Choose." _

Bah, as if that was any kind of choice. As if his father had ever given a single damn about anything that Shunsui did. He had little reason to believe that nothing more than failure was expected of him, as always. Had the demand not threatened his inheritance – and by extension the vast fortunes that funded his indulgent lifestyle – Shunsui would have shrugged it all off as just another example of posturing by his cold, dismissive parent. But as it was, Kyouraku didn't need to run any risks of being cut off - the demand stated that Shunsui _attend_ the school, it never stipulated how long he had to stay on the roster.

And if there was one thing at which Shunsui excelled – well, wait; he excelled at drinking _and_ women... - if there was a _third_ great talent in Shunui's arsenal, it was getting thrown out of just about anywhere.

Mood vastly improved by his brief dwelling on the salient points of his current situation, Shunsui strolled in the direction of the infamous military school. He didn't bother checking behind him, fairly certain that Yemon was going to follow him all the way to the Academy gates. While Kyouraku's father made little outward recognition of his younger offspring's existence, he certainly went to extremes at times to make sure that one or more of his servants kept tabs on his wayward son's whereabouts. It was pretty much the only sign of affection the elder Kyouraku bothered to bestow, and Shunsui made a point of taking full advantage of the single weakness his father ever displayed.

Sure enough, when Shunsui paused at a sake hut to secure a little bit of liquid courage, a pronounced grunt of disapproval from the shadows nearby was impossible to miss.

_Aww, he cares_, Shunsui thought to himself with a grin. And Yemon _did_ care, of that Kyouraku was certain, although he was utterly convinced it was more a matter of protecting his own lofty position in the clan as secretary to the reigning Kyouraku that kept old Yemon on his tail more often than any other clan servant. The man would _carry_ Shunsui to Yamamoto himself if he had to.

And Shunsui was not in the mood to give old Yemon the satisfaction. He made a point of marching right up to the gates himself, on foot no less – it would not be taken lightly that Shunsui made his entrance like any common beggar rather than in a manner commensurate with the honor of being a member of the Kyouraku clan. And so it was that Shunsui delighted in strolling casually into the much-hated Shinigami Academy just as the doors closed behind him, although he did spare a second to hope that the gates had closed right in Yemon's face.

Suppressing his satisfaction, Shunsui planted fists on hips and surveyed the scene around him.

Surprisingly, he wasn't entirely put off. There was more or less organized chaos on display as dozens of souls mingled around in varying states of confusion. Shunsui was quite delighted to find that of the few nobles in attendance, to a one they had been stupid enough to get rides to school. All the easier to slip in unnoticed and scope things out, like any other student. Figure out the best way to be a nuisance. Shunsui was banking on being out on the street again by noon at the latest; _that _level of misbehavior required at least a little bit of planning.

Making sure he looked like he knew exactly where he was going, Shunsui picked a direction and strode off with apparent purposefulness. He'd done this often enough and had just enough noble bearing in his demeanor to pull off the illusion; he was around a building and away from the crowd before any of the obnoxious-looking established students could catch up with him.

Free of his clan-shadow and any immediate obligations, Shunsui meandered pleasantly through the grounds. Utilitarian in layout, someone had had enough forethought to keep the grounds manicured and aesthetically pleasing. Shunsui briefly considered the academy's founder, but swiftly dismissed the idea; that scabby warlord was hardly the type to design the landscaping. A woman's touch was most likely at work here, he surmised...who else would have made sure that the carnations in bloom were masterfully arranged?

While on that mental topic, a passing figure caught Kyouraku's attention. A little slip of a girl, slender and attractive with dark hair and eyes to die for, was scuttling by on an obvious errand. Despite the quickness of her step, the girl's expression was the most benignly genteel Shunsui had ever seen on someone so young, as if her maturity and bearing were advanced far beyond her years. Even in passing, she managed to exude the impression that a house could fall on her and it wouldn't ruffle her innate calm.

No sooner was the impression laid then Shunsui suddenly wanted very badly to see exactly what _would_ rattle her. Women liked a little rattling now and then. Making note of which building she slipped into, Shunsui ducked behind a few bushes, mischievous mind racing. Within moments he had a plan in place, chortling happily to himself as he took out his sake jug from where it hid in his robes and sloshed some of the pungent liquid liberally all over himself. Allowing himself a minute or two to dry – and for a few more harried new students to slip into the dark-haired girl's building – Shunsui emerged and took an experimental sniff.

He smelled like a mix between a wine bar and a whorehouse. _Perfect_.

Taking a deep breath, he launched into the raunchiest drinking song he could think of and strolled towards the nearby building.

"Driiiiiiiiink sake, drink saaaaaake!" Though he'd only taken the tiniest actual sip of his drink, Shunsui was something of an expert at faking drunk. He swayed convincingly. "If you drink, you'll win thiiiiiis, the finest spear in aaaaaaall Japan-!" He emphasized 'finest spear', trying to make it sound as lewd as possible. Maybe he could get the pretty little duckling to blush before he even entered the room....speaking of which, he made a show out of running into the doorway. Nothing like pratfalls to loosen up the ladies.

He made another show of steadying himself and glancing around the room. The dark-haired girl was there all right, her cheeks noticeably unblushed.

_Damn_. Time to turn on the real charm.

"Well, helloooo," he crooned, adding his signature eyebrow-wiggle that worked at least sixty percent of the time. A few titters inched up the average, although none of them came from the dark-haired beauty. _Damnitall_.

"May we help you?" Like a librarian, she replied with economy. Adorable economy; it made Shunsui want to rattle her calm all the fiercer.

"I'm certain you could, my dear. Although I'm not used to working in front of an audience..." Shunsui used his sexiest tone, leaning against the doorway in a posture that conveniently pulled his robes open, exposing some of the manly tangle of hair on his chest. He thought he heard someone sigh.

The girl quirked her eyebrow in response; Kyouraku could imagine a hint of interest there. "I do not understand you. Are you a student in this class?"

Oh right. Class. School. Getting kicked out. Bah, he could get girls just this cute anywhere, and Shunsui needed to focus. He refocused himself to the greater task at hand.

"Don't worry, I'm here – class can start now." He very deliberately dug for his sake jug, located conveniently near his vitals – he noted most of the females and at least one male take note of where his hand was rooting around – and removed it, taking a quick pull.

_Ahhh, that felt good._

"Student, are you _drunk_?" the girl asked, her tone getting lower and decidedly more enticing.

"Not yet," Kyouraku asserted, refusing to be distracted. "Don't worry, this should do it." Just then, the greatest tragedy Shunsui could possibly imagine took place: his sake jug erupted in his hand.

_Well, if I'd known she was going to do _that_, I would have taken a larger sip._ Kyouraku had hardly been sadder in his entire life. "Why would you DO that?" he wailed, dripping pathetically.

"If you'd care to take a seat and pay attention, you will at least learn _how_," the dark-haired teaching assistant replied pointedly. And in a _very_ sexy tone of voice.

Shunsui contemplated this. Without his sake, he had to change his game plan. Fine. Drunk-in-public wasn't going to get him kicked out, he would just have to go for full-blown assholery. He effortlessly turned the charm back on.

"Very well, sunbeam – your wish is my command! I simply cannot refuse a beautiful woman anything," he purred, padding with practiced uncoordination into the room, singing under his breath. Finding an open spot in the back, he plopped himself down on the tatamis next to a harmless-looking kid. Shunsui nudged the sap, whispering loud enough to wake the dead. "Wake me when it's over."

He was just settling to the floor in an ostentatious show of repose when a strong and distinct reiatsu signature approached the building. Kyouraku froze for a split second.

_Shit_.

Sure enough, a second later Nakae-dono himself swept into the room. The man was a mid-level noble, so he'd had dealings with the Kyouraku clan on more than one occasion. The recognition went both ways and took less than a second.

"Kyouraku! I'd know you from a mile away and blindfolded. You're the spitting image of your father, though I daresay he'd disown you to see your behavior right now."

Shunsui masterfully restrained a wince. "I daresay he would – he's quite in the habit of disowning me whenever the opportunity presents itself." And then, for effect, he split his face into the toothiest grin possible.

The room vanished in a blur as Kyouraku found himself bodily hurtled out of the room, quite effectively face-planting on the lawn just outside. Spitting out a mouthful of turf, Shunsui groaned and rolled over, looking up at the sky as a tiny figure threw a shadow across him.

_Well, that didn't take long. Here an hour, and already thrown out of class. Should definitely be thrown out of school by lunchtime._..

"You certainly know how to make a first impression." The teaching assistant stood over him with her wide eyes, face still serene despite the fact that her voice was undeniably amused.

The grin came effortlessly. "Ahh, I just wanted to get a moment alone with you, sunbeam."

"It's Unohana-san," she murmured in reply, reaching out to caress his shoulder. Only it wasn't a caress; the moment her tiny hand touched his robes, Kyouraku was immersed in an intense wave of vertigo. It was all over in a second, and then Shunsui was blinking in the sunlight in front of a small building that still managed to be imposing.

"Wha-?" Shunsui began in confusion, but before he could even turn his head around, the dark-haired vixen who had so unceremoniously dumped him here was gone in another flash of shunpo.

Leaving Kyouraku Shunsui sitting flat on his behind in front of the building that housed the single most terrifying soul in all of Soul Society. For a long moment, he cursed his current sobriety and considered his predicament; this would be a _lot_ more fun if he was drunk.

"Huh," he finally muttered, bouncing to his feet and brushing the grass off his rumpled robes. "Well, here we go."

And without another thought, he marched up to the door and threw it open.

Inside, he blinked for a moment, chocolate brown eyes adjusting to the dimness. Shunsui made a point of not letting his expression betray an ounce of near-suffocation; _damn_ but the reiatsu in the room was thick! He just focused on drawing deep, controlled breaths and examined the creature in front of him with as much nonchalance as possible.

Midnight-black mustaches, braided beard. Bald head that made the man look impossibly old already, despite the strength and vibrancy still apparent in his muscled frame. By all appearances middle-aged, the captain-commander and ruler-apparent of the only ordered society ever to exist outside of noble walls, Yamamoto Genruusai sat behind a massive desk and regarded his intruder in a manner that made Kyouraku's attempts at nonchalance look like child's play. The man's eyes weren't even opened, hands gnarled by countless centuries of warfare steepled studiously in front of his chin.

A long moment passed in perfect silence.

"Well," Yamamoto Genruusai finally rumbled. "What are you doing here?"

Kyouraku, caught off guard, did what he did best and winged it. "I'm here on account of my bad behavior." There was a long pause, that reminded Kyouraku way too much of being home. "Sir," he tacked on finally.

"Already?" Yamamoto growled quietly. "Impressive; it is not quite noon yet." A small twitch of mustaches gave the impression that the old bear might actually be smiling, but it was impossible to tell behind the thick, black mustaches. Unfolding his hands, Yamamoto studiously picked up a quill and began to scritch quietly on a piece of parchment.

Shunsui waited a long moment for more, but the expected lecture didn't materialize. "Uhm, Yamamoto, uh...._dono_. Is that all?"

The pen stopped. "Was there more?" A black eyebrow quirked questioningly.

That threw Shunsui for a moment. _Was the man daft? _ "Aren't you going to punish me? Or...kick me out or something?"

"Of course I will not kick you out." The pen started moving again as the old bear bent back over his desk. "You are free to leave if you wish."

It was a full minute before Kyouraku could get his voice to work, although his mouth moved silently. "I can just...leave?" Kyouraku felt oddly belligerent at this unexpected development. Getting kicked out was one thing; being _allowed_ to leave was an entirely different ball of wax. "You wouldn't stop me?"

"This is not a draft – students attend by their own choice."

Kyouraku snorted, but it drew no reaction. It was really quite disconcerting; Shunsui had never before met a soul he couldn't annoy in thirty seconds or less. "So, I could, let's say..._stay._ For a while. Just for the hell of it." More scritching, while the captain-commander wrote on; it was _really_ starting to bug Shunsui. "What would be the point of that?" Shunsui continued, calculating how much longer he could be bothered with this place before he would need a drink and a woman.

"No point at all," the old grizzly grunted, his voice sharpening to razor steel. "It would do little else but prove your father wrong about you."

Shunsui felt suddenly cold, as if he'd been dunked in ice water. His own voice seemed to come from somewhere outside himself, and could have cut glass.

"My father has nothing to do with this."

"Oh?" The pen stopped, but Yamamoto rumbled on. "Then you were not threatened with excommunication from the Kyouraku clan unless you attended my Academy?"

_How the hell did _he_ know that??_ Uncharacteristically, Kyoruaku found himself with absolutely nothing to say. He tried anyway. "That's no one's business but the clan's." That sounded utterly ridiculous, and reminded Shunsui far too much of his elder brother, and there were few souls Shunsui tried to imitate less. He attempted to fix his momentary blunder, blurting with less grace and more honesty than he'd intended.

"I don't have to prove _anything_."

And just like that, two almond-shaped eyes that had seen more than Shunsui could imagine were wide open and piercing the noble through.

"Every second son has something to prove."

The cold turned to blazing heat in a split second; in an instant, Shunsu made up his mind – if there was anyone in the universe he suddenly wanted to prove wrong more than his father, it was the crusty bastard sitting right in front of him.

"Fine, I'll stay - do your academy a favor. At least long enough to get the clan off my back." He did his best to sound condescending, but it rang rather hollow. He sallied forth nonetheless. "And I could leave whenever I wanted, right?"

"No," Yamamoto said quietly, finally setting the pen down and regarding Shunsui with more directness than the young noble had ever experienced before. "This is a military academy. Your decision to come here is your own. Once you make your choice, however, you will be expected to see it through."

That threw Shunsui for a second, but he ignored the sudden twinge of hesitation. Instead, Kyouraku just smiled and rose to the challenge. "Then it's a deal. I'm staying."

"Very well. Report to your superiors, student". Yamamoto went back to his quiet writing without another word.

Kyouraku rose and executed a perfect bow – in a stunning display of generosity, he offered the gesture of a noble to an equal - and pivoted on his heel. An instant he was outside, breathing the fresh air and feeling oddly liberated.

_I'm going to make your life a living hell,_ Yamamoto. Shunsui thought with a wicked grin. _I give you less than a week before you give up and throw me out_. He had barely taken five steps before he had a dozen pranks spinning out in his head, ways to throw the Academy and every student in it into utter chaos. After all, if there was one thing Kyouraku knew how to do, it was how to blemish a reputation, and he was certain the gnarly warlord would not want the supposed-honor of his school tarnished.

And it sure as hell beat going home.

Rubbing his hands together, Shunsui struck out in a random direction, weaving plans by the second.

"First things first," he muttered to himself. "Minions. I'm going to need _minions_...."

* * *

"So, Kyouraku-san – I trust this is everything you requested?"

With great effort, Shunsui tore his eyes away from the obnoxiously pretty upper-classman before him to survey the various items spread out on the table in front of him.

_Huh. Not bad, _Kyouraku noted with no small amount of satisfaction.

The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. Shunsui had quickly learned how things worked at this so-called Academy; as with anywhere else, a gray-area existed under all the polished veneer. For instance, under the guise of a 'personal study project', students could procure just about anything - especially if they had a surname like Kyouraku, more charisma than a roomful of politicians and a certain way with the ladies. Even the lovely and utilitarian Unohana Retsu found herself assisting him when Shunsui really turned on the charm, although Kyouraku suspected it was less interest in him personally than in seeing what he did with the random objects he requested. Not that his ego would ever admit that....

Shunsui quickly ticked off the list in his head, comparing it to the items assembled. "Yep, that's everything." _Huh, she even got the pinking shears. _Damn_, the girl was good... _

Unohana quirked an eyebrow, palpable amusement sparkling through her perennial calm. "And what exactly is all this for?"

Kyouraku showed as many teeth as possible. "Nothing important."

"Oh really?" Retsu murmured, her lithe fingers straying across a few of the more unlikely objects, like the bunny slippers. "This wouldn't be like the last time I procured stuff for you?"

"Retsu, you wound me deeply!" Kyouraku wailed, pouting adorably. "The last time was perfectly legitimate personal use-!"

"You asked for medical adhesive," Unohana reminded, unmoved. A dark eyebrow quirked. "A day later, Nakae-dono's nether cheeks were glued together."

"You heard about that?" Kyouraku returned, rather delighted. For the most part, the pranks he'd pulled over the last couple of months had been ingeniously and obnoxiously covered up; say what you wanted about Yamamoto, his PR skills were phenomenal, and for once Shunsui found his innate ability for covering his tracks working against him. It was proving quite difficult for Kyouraku to get thrown out of school for committing heinous pranks when it was impossible to pin any one prank on any one student. Still, it made sense that Unohana had stumbled across the truth of at least one of them, seeing as she'd been interning at the medical ward for the last few weeks.

Focusing on the innocence required for the moment, Shunsui cleared his throat surreptitiously. "I mean, I didn't hear that. How unfortunate – how could such a thing have happened?"

"The perpetrator has yet to be identified," Unohana returned with a wink, eyes sparkling. "Although there is solid reason to believe it's the same miscreant who flooded the women's bunks, spiked the upper classman's water supply, and set fire to Yamamoto-dono's bathroom..."

"I heard he did that himself," Shunsui quipped. "Gastric distress plus fire zanpaktou – bad combination."

As predicted, Unohana-san giggled, a sound like wind chimes. "You're going to get caught one of these days."

Sweeping the ingredients to his next prank deftly into a bag, Shunsui closed in on Retsu and dropped a quick kiss on one porcelain cheek. "I sincerely hope so."

Unohana laughed again, for once not twitching away from Shunsui's advance. He pressed the advantage, pausing on his way out the door. "So, after I get _not_-caught later, you wanna sneak out and hit the town?"

She shut him down like he was late on the sake bill, eyes still sparkling. "No, thank you, Kyouraku-san. I am otherwise occupied this evening – and I for one have no intention of getting expelled." With a demure wink, Unohana slipped out of the room with calm, graceful steps.

Her parting words had Shunsui brooding for a moment. While his bottomless bag of tricks did manage to bring some much-needed entertainment into Shunsui's academic life, two things had utterly failed to happen. First, not only was Shunsui _not_ credited with his brilliant maneuvers – which irked him to no end – but they had also failed to result in the expulsion that was really the point to being such a pain in the ass. Shunsui was honestly starting to wonder if Yamamoto was keeping him enrolled on purpose, as some sort of masochistic punishment...

But _worst_ of all, the crafty Kyouraku had yet to manage to slip past the walls even once. No matter what route he planned or how carefully he monitored the comings and goings of upperclassmen and sensei's, he had barely managed to even get close to escaping, even in the middle of the night. There was always _someone_ there, in just the wrong place at just the wrong time. Someone impossible to bribe, bully or hoodwinkle. Someone with a notable interest in keeping Shunsui trapped at school.

Either Yamamoto liked to walked to grounds at all hours of the day, or he was actually keeping personal tabs on his problem student.

Either way, Shunsui was going rather stir-crazy. Not that he lacked for much, besides freedom; enough money pressed into the right palms kept him well lubricated with contraband beverages, and there were more than enough willing female students to ensure that Kyouraku never spent a night alone unless he wanted to.

But _dammit_ all if he hated being thwarted. And while he had very little pride left, Kyouraku did have a reputation to maintain. Every day that saw him unable to visit his favorite Rukongian haunts worked against the image of 'miscreant' that Shunsui had worked long and hard to cement. He shuddered at the very idea that his friends and associates actually thought he might have become a student _willingly_.

Faugh, the _horror_!

_I'm going to have to drink my way through half the districts in Rukongai to recover from this embarrassment,_ Shunsui thought sourly.

Remembering the bag of goodies slung over his shoulder, he shelved the thought for now. He had far more important things to accomplish at the moment. Peering out the door to make sure no one was in the hallway outside, Shunsui eased out the room and began to stalk stealthily down the empty passageway. Sneaking in and out of the medical units was particularly tricky, as alert and efficient staff and students were always bustling about, but as Unohana had rapidly become Shunsui's go-to girl for some of his more _exotic_ requests for prank props, he'd become something of an expert on hospital exits. _There was one just down around the corner._..

"Ukitake-san! How are you feeling today?"

The sound of Unohana's voice halted Shunsui in his tracks. She was talking slightly louder than usual – a warning? He froze, waiting for the right moment to make a break for it....

"I'm fine today, thank you," replied a chipper voice that instantly set Shunsui's hackles on edge. Kid sounded like a total poofter. "Just here for a checkup. Thank you for asking."

"Of course, Ukitake-san," Retsu murmured back, her voice just a little too warm for Shunsui's liking. "Would you like some company to your next class?"

The reply was lost on Shunsui as behind him, a furious roar ripped through the air.

"_Kyouraku!!" _

_Aw, SHIT._ Kyouraku didn't even bother turning around; Nakae-dono's voice had become far too familiar at this point for Shunsui to have any doubts as to what was about to go down.

He simply started running.

"Get back here, you little _shit_!" A stunted, thumping sort of footfall started down the hallway after him.

Shunsui stifled a grin; guess they hadn't gotten his ass-cheeks unglued just yet. Figuring that it should be pretty easy to outrun a hobbled old kidou instructor, Shunsui clutched his bag and careened around the corner, hurtling towards the door he knew was just around the next bend...

It was just then that Kyouraku slammed into something sharp, hard and just as shocked as he was. Between one eyeblink and the next, two bodies plummeted to a sprawling, tangled heap on the ground.

"Are you okay??" Unohana yelped, her voice thick with concern.

Shunsui stifled a groan of disappointment; he'd kind of been hoping it was a _female_ he was currently sprawled across. Struggling to right himself, Shunsui instantly turned on the charm. "I'm just fine, no need to worry about little old me."

But Unohana wasn't paying an ounce of attention to him. Instead, she was hovering over the pale, skinny kid Shunsui had so fabulously plowed over. Retsu's normally placent face twisted in concern. "Ukitake-san...?"

"Ow." The kid spoke directly to the ceiling, seeming rather surprised to be flat on his back.

Retsu's face went dead serious. "I'll call the orderly."

"No, no – _don't. _ Please, I'm fine." the Ukitake kid spoke quickly, with a slight desperation Shunsui didn't understand. "I mean...I think I might have sprained something, but I'm _fine_." The emphasis further confused Shunsui – and it seemed to mean more to Unohana, who nodded with relief – but that's when their time ran out.

"_Gochuu Tekan!!" _

Bars of light slammed Kyouraku's limbs together, quite effectively hog-tying him where he sat on the floor. A split-second later, Nakae-dono rounded the corner, with a running lurch that set Kyouraku giggling maniacally.

"I've got you now, you worthless dung-heap! I don't care _whose_ son you are, you are going to suffer to your last, ungrateful breath..!!"

"Nakae-dono, you know the Academy's policy against threatening the life of students. Please moderate yourself."

A dry, crackly voice seared the scene like wildfire. Everyone froze, although Nakae-dono recovered first, whirling around, his face purpling with rage.

"Yamamoto-dono, I _got_ him!" Spluttering, he pointed a victorious finger at Kyouraku, still writing on the floor with a fit of giggles. "It's time to end this little hellion's reign of chaos!"

Yamamoto came to a stately halt, surveying the scene with squinched eyes; Unohana and Ukitake still crouched together on the floor, Shunsui and his limbs kidou'd together, and Nakae-sensei fairly quivering with rage.

A black eye brow quirked with displeasure. "You know how I feel about using kidou on students outside of the classroom," Yamamoto murmured.

Nakae's face turned interesting colors. "He was running away-!"

"And so your only option was to resort to a 70's level bakudo? On a lowly _student_?"

Nakae's mouth worked silently, his shock at not getting the support he expected from the captain-commander almost made Shunsui feel bad for him.

"I'm very fast," Kyouraku interjected helpfully. When Nakae glared at him, Shunsui grinned wolfishly back.

Yamamoto sighed and turned to the heretofore silent pair. "And what's your part in all this?"

The skinny kid seemed to take the question as directed at him solely, and flushed crimson. "I, uh....was in the way."

In a move that shocked Shunsui to his very toes, Yamamoto dropped his voice and spoke quietly, a definite air of concern ghosting his tone. "Are you alright?"

The kid flushed darker, looking like he wanted to vanish into the floorboards. "I'm fine, really." Suppressing a wince, he got to his feet with Unohana hovering at his side and straightened himself out with obvious effort, a strangely stubborn look on his face. "If you'll excuse me sir, I'll be late for class."

Yamamoto watched the pale boy for a second longer than necessary before nodding. "Tardiness is not to be tolerated. Get moving." With a wave of his hands, the kidou bars around Kyouraku vanished. "_All_ of you."

Shunsui snapped out of his momentary shock and lurched to his feet. "Aye aye, sir!" In a move almost fast enough to be mistaken for shunpo, he lunged for the door and was out before he could hear Nakae spluttering in outrage behind him.

"Yamamoto-dono – what are you _doing_!? You _know_ he's the one who...!"

The answering rumble reminded the furious teacher that there was no proof whatsoever, setting Shunsui grinning again. _Damn right, there's no proof_. As he darted across the open square outside in the direction of his next class – he might as well not press his luck any further for one day, and it was only kendo class anyway – he glanced over his shoulder.

Unohana and Ukitake were just parting ways, heading in the directions of their respective classes, but not before Shunsui caught a glimpse of lingering concern in Retsu's eyes. The Ukitake kid continued to look embarrassed and determined, for what reason Shunsui couldn't imagine.

But between the look on Unohana's face and Yamamoto's expressed concern for the skinny kid, Shunsui felt an instantly blossoming dislike.

Rounding the corner, Shunsui contemplated this new development for a long moment before a slow grin started to spread across his ill-shaven face.

To hell with expulsion. He had just found a new target.


	6. Pranks, Part 2

Of the many talents of Kyouraku Shunsui, probably the most unrecognized were his thespian skills. Oh sure, he had a flair for the dramatic and a reputation for crying wolf, but in every other way he was known as a lousy actor: incapable of pulling off a prank without wearing a triumphant expression for days afterward, unable to flatter a lady without slipping into every cliché imaginable, and quite without any ability to lie whatsoever.

This was, of course, exactly what Shunsui wanted everyone to think.

In truth, Kyouraku could - and did, on one memorable occasion - lie boldfaced to a high priest and get away with it if he wanted to. All of his over-the-top and exuberant displays of emotion were carefully calculated to _look_ like poor acting, the more so to disguise how sinfully good he actually was at it. For Shunsui had learned very nearly from the teat, that the only way to keep an edge on the competition was to keep any and every advantage as hidden as possible. Enemies couldn't fight what they didn't know existed.

So it was quite within the scope of Shunsui's abilities to keep a straight face one fine spring day, as Ukitake Jyuushirou arrived at class a tad late, rather winded and scratching surreptitiously.

Kyouraku waited while their Dimensional Dynamics sensei barely acknowledged the kid's tardiness (while Shunsui himself masterfully restrained a snort; if _he _was even a second late, did he ever get an earful, but _no_ - not everyone's _favorite _Ukitake...) before adopting a slightly concerned expression.

"Everything alright?" he murmured in the Kyouraku Patented Near-Inaudible Whisper.

"Fine," Ukitake replied, somewhat out of breath. He settled down quickly at his seat next to Shunsui, scooting carefully into place and sneaking in another scratch.

Shunsui glanced at the preoccupied sensei and decided to risk another whisper; he just couldn't help satisfying himself. At least he didn't sound as smug as he felt. "You look like hell."

"I...didn't sleep well." A faint blush brought a little bit of color into Jyuushirou's paler than normal cheeks.

Shunsui took in the deep purple rings under Ukitake's eyes and wondered for the briefest of moments if he hadn't overdone it on the itching powder in the kid's bedsheets.

It was the waning end of the second semester of his first-year prison term at Academy, and Shunsui had to admit to himself that of all unexpected things, the last few months had proven enormously entertaining. He had already figured out that old Fart Yama wasn't going to kick him out of school short of him actually committing a crime that would have landed Shunsui a far stricter incarceration than he was currently under. (Not a good trade, in Kyouraku's mind.)

So, unable to quit and incapable of getting kicked out, Shunsui settled down to amusing himself as best he could, an endeavor that had turned out to be ridiculously easy to achieve. After all, being at Academy wasn't all so different from being at home – dozens of grasping, ambitious sycophants, all trying to gain the attention and approval of an overbearing, indomitable leader. It was a tune far too familiar to Shunsui, and he knew how to play it like a harp.

But therein lay the most unexpected surprise, for while Shunsui played his role to the hilt...the results were unlike anything he'd encountered before.

That he made Ukitake Jyuushirou's life a living nightmare was unquestionable. Kyoruaku had a lifetime's worth of experience tormenting his own family members, and the easy-going, plucky Ukitake was simply too easy of a target. He was open and jovial to an obnoxious degree, always willing and eager to help anyone, and generally assumed the absolute best of everyone he met. The stupid gat had even decided that Shunsui's friendliness towards him was entirely heartfelt, and had struck up a quick comraderie. Hell, Shunsui was pretty sure the guy thought they were best buds at this point, which made things almost depressingly easy.

The devilry had started out small. Stealing articles of a personal nature, swapping out toothpaste with adhesive paste, replacing brand new shaving materials with dull ones...all of these niggling inconveniences all too easy to accomplish since the kid never kept the room to his door locked. When Ukitake wised up and started latching his lock, Shunsui simply started sneaking through the window, although he did make an effort to be a little more surreptitious.

Small things, impossible to explain or really blame on anyone – a particularly important homework assignment that simply went missing, or a doctor's prescription for an innocuous tincture that disappeared from a nightstand. A fresh and clean yukata that was suddenly filthy dirty the day before laundry day. Things that could have happened anywhere, things that might simply slipped one's mind. The sort of things someone as affable as the young Ukitake would never dream could have been _done_ to him, but would be far more likely to place the blame on himself.

That had gotten old fast.

Such amateur stunts were only fun when one got to enjoy the results. At Clan Kyouraku, it rarely took much physical or mental discomfort to send the oldest Kyouraku son into a fit of malcontent, usually voiced to their father and quickly attributed to Shunsui. That wasn't the case at Academy. No matter what Shunsui did to Ukitake, the hell of the thing was – the kid never complained. As in, _ever_. Kyouraku had never seen such a thing. Missing items were replaced with nary a disgruntled word to anyone. Ukitake's hair grew so pale that a missed shave wasn't even noticed, and for things like the dirty clothes or the missing homework, the young noble simply took unswerving responsibility for the 'failure' and accepted any ensuing consequences without flinching. And he did it all with the same easy-going, steady manner as he did anything else.

It was the _damnedest_ fucking thing.

So, Shunsui had upped his game. It was a fine line to tread – tormenting the hell out of someone without him realizing that it was his supposed best friend causing all the misery. Doing enough emotional damage that the kid fell to pieces without driving the him out of Academy entirely required finesse. That last condition was key – if the Ukitake kid simply gave up and went home, it would ruin the only real fun Shunsui had to look forward to at this godsforsaken school.

But still, the kid _had_ to break sooner or later, at least enough to finally go crying to Yamamoto. None of Shunsui's efforts would be worthwhile if they didn't cause the Academy Warden one helluva headache. And this Ukitake boy was one of Yamamoto's favorites, of that Shunsui was certain. Oh sure, the crusty bear did a remarkable job of hiding it; Shunsui doubted anyone but himself noticed the modicum of extra attention and concern the old warlord had for the skinny, unlikely pupil.

But Shunsui had grown up in the Kyouraku clanhold, and he could smell favoritism from a light year away. And just like at home, there were few things else in the universe that Shunsui had more desire to extinguish. Bubbles like that deserved to be pricked.

Still, looking at the minor noble sitting next to him in class and trying to scratch his arm surreptitiously while working ostensibly on his class assignment, Shunsui felt a totally uncharacteristic pang of guilt. The kid really _did_ look like shit; hell, he looked about to keel over any second. Shunsui toyed with his own writing brush and mulled over his game plan.

_Probably wouldn't hurt to lay off the kid for a day or two._...

"_Adjuchas__,_" Ukitake suddenly whispered, almost too low to hear.

"Hm?" Kyouraku responded automatically, having no idea what the kid had just said.

"Kyouraku!"

Shunsui whipped his head up, eyes wide and innocent, as Sato-sensei glared at him from the front of the classroom with an expectant expression. Caught off-guard at what had clearly been an academic question, Shunsui automatically blurted the first thing that came to mind, which just happened to be the most recent thing he'd heard.

"Adjuchas?"

Sato-sensei's glare darkened. "Are you _asking_ me, or is that your answer?"

Peripherally, Shunsui just barely caught the merest of pale-headed nods. "Uhm, that would be my answer, most honorable Sensei."

Sato-sensei glared for a second longer before relaxing slightly. "That is correct," he muttered grudgingly. "And what exactly _is_ an Adjuchas, student?"

Shunsui took a moment to adjust his robes, just long enough for another side-long glance to take in the answer scrawled on the very edge of Ukitake's scroll; it was remarkably detailed for such a small kanji, clearly drawn in haste. "Uhm, it would be the second level of Arrancar, honorable sensei. Just below Vasto Lorde."

Sato-sensei indulged in another long glare of thwarted ire before grunting in acknowledgment and turning his wrath onto another student.

Certain their teacher's attention was elsewhere, Shunsui swallowed an ounce of pride and whispered as quietly as possible.

"Thanks."

"Sure thing." Ukitake's jaw clacked shut as Sato-sensei threw a quick question his direction; he covered admirably, Shunsui had to admit. Kid even had the right answer, of _course_. Unseen to their teacher's view, a pale hand quickly scratched at an elbow before stilling again.

Shunsui stifled a wince of guilt. _Yeah, ok. Two days. That's _all _I'm giving him._..

The rest of the class went by in a blur; disquieted by his uncharacteristically merciful decision, Shunsui spent the rest of the hour dreaming up fresh pranks to commit as soon as two days' reprieve was over. Watching Ukitake struggle awkwardly to his feet at the end of class, clearly in a fair amount of discomfort, Shunsui's conscience pricked again but before he could as much as invite the kid to his rooms for a contraband drink, Sato-sensei's voice whipped out again.

"Ukitake-san! You will remain, please."

"Hai, sensei," Jyuushirou replied, looking a bit beleaguered. Shunsui didn't find Ukitake's harried demeanor even slightly satisfying, which irked him to no end. Exchanging nods with the kid and stifling yet another uncomfortable stomach twinge, Shunsui mentally berated himself for being a softy and beat a hasty exit.

He didn't away quickly enough to miss the beginning of Sato-sensei's rant. "So, we're helping fellow students cheat in _my_ class, now are we??"

Unseen, Shunsui _did_ wince as he quickly slipped away. He didn't bother to trying hang around to see if he could overhear Ukitake trying to dodge blame. He knew by now _that_ wouldn't happen.

Face twisting sourly, Kyouraku spat into a flowerbed and strode towards the mess hall. _Fine, two days' break from pranks, _and_ I'll leave him a jug of sake on his nightstand. Just cuz I'm a nice guy. _Not_ that he's gonna drink it._.. Mood still ruined, Shunsui stormed into the cafeteria and scanned the room for familiar faces. He hated eating alone; it looked suspicious. Always be part of the crowd, that was the way to go. Anyone with as many pranks under his belt as Kyouraku had knew that the best place to hide was right out in public.

Black hair and deep blue eyes instantly caught his attention. Shunsui grinned with delight and trumped over towards the upperclassmen's tables, plunking himself down in an open seat right next to his favorite sempai.

"Yo, you gonna eat that?" Without waiting for an answer, Kyouraku dove heartily into a pile of steaming tempura.

Unohana simply smiled that smile that made him want to do terrible things, just to see if he could get a different expression on her face. "No, it's all yours. I got extra for you."

That was delightful. "Unohana-kun, you say the _sweetest_ things to me." Shunsui purred in his most appealing voice. "You of all moon-flowers would know that the way to a man's heart is through his, er...stomach." He leaned closer, puckering his lips in a way that was both appealing and inquisitive.

Retsu simply giggled softly and pushed him away, gently but firmly. "Every Thursday our lunch times overlap. You _always_ show up to eat my leftovers."

_Huh. Damned observant, isn't she? _ Not at all put off by this - albeit slightly disturbed that anything he did was seen as routine - Kyouraku set to with vigor. He really _was_ hungry, and it was rarely a bad idea to display a healthy appetite. Ukitake and any recent pangs of guilt were quickly buried under a plateful of delicious food. "So, what has such a lovely flower as yourself been up to lately? You haven't taught Nakae-sensei's class in weeks."

"I've been quite occupied otherwise, Kyoruaku-san," Unohana replied softly, her smile somehow becoming rather knowing despite not budging a hair. "You've been quite busy yourself lately, now haven't you?"

Shusui adopted an adorably wounded expression. "What on earth are you implying?" His voice dropped. "I haven't asked you for contraband in weeks..."

"Which is exactly how I know you're up to your eyebrows in something," Retsu replied, smooth as silk. "Don't tell me you've got some grand finale planned for the end of the semester. Going down in a blaze of glory?"

Kyouraku _hadn't_ planned anything like that, actually – but he _should_ have been. The reminder stung. Had he really been so preoccupied with annoying the shit out of Ukitake that he'd overlooked the chance to leave his legacy on the _one_ year of Academy he was certain ever to complete?

_HUH_. Suddenly irritated, Shunsui quickly tallied up the few weeks left until the beginning of summer break, wondering if he still had time to pull off something grandiose. _No way can I manage an Inverted Dancing Crane...but a Laughing Dragon with a Rainbow Trout twist; now _that_ would make graduation interesting._..

Misinterpreting his sudden frown, Unohana's face firmed into something quietly serious. "It wouldn't hurt to refocus your energies, Kyouraku-san."

Jerking out of his reverie, Shunsui glanced at Retsu out of the corner of his eye and wondered quite what she meant by that. "Sounds fabulous. What exactly did you have in mind, Moonbeam...?" He trailed off, letting his eyes smolder.

This time she didn't giggle, although her eyes sparkled with laughter. "I just mean that there is very little time left until the end of the school year. I'm sure there are certain...individuals who would appreciate a reprieve while you focused on graduation."

"You're quite right," he replied, shifting gears and neatly navigating the conversation down a road that didn't give him the niggling feeling that Retsu knew _exactly _who had been making Ukitake's life miserable. "Which reminds me, I've gotta meet a guy about some sake."

Retsu watched him leap to his feet, shaking her head slowly. "You've always got something up your sleeve, don't you?"

"If you want to take a look up my sleeve, my dear, all you need to do is ask," Shunsui returned glibly, shoving a final mouthful of sushi into his mouth before giving her his most bawdy wink. "I'd be more than happy to bare anything you require for your most abject scrutiny."

Retsu rolled her huge eyes, the smile on her lips twitching a hair higher. "I'll keep that in mind. Now get moving before your contact realizes he's breaking at least eleven Academy rules by sneaking alcohol to a student and gets cold feet." Rising in a motion graceful enough to put swans to shame, Unohana drifted in the direction of her fellow classmates without a backward glance.

Shunsui, utterly pleased and finding his mood quite restored, decided to do the chivalrous thing and heed a lady's advice. _Gods, I love that woman!_

* * *

The rest of the day went rather swimmingly. Shunsui made his contact, who had indeed looked ten kinds of nervous and seemed all but ready to bolt, costing Shunsui twice his normal fee just to soothe the guy's nerves. Once the kitchen attendant had been properly coddled and paid off, Kyouraku had spent a few moments ingeniously hiding no less than eight liters of sake in his robes, all the while wondering how Retsu had just happened to know that this particular 'supplier' had been the nervous type. Forced to wonder once again how much the beautiful upperclassmen _really_ knew, Kyoruaku found himself rather unsettled in the sort of way that only a sip of sake could calm.

Problem with _that_ was that, once Shunsui had found a decent enough hiding place – behind the hellmoth coops; smelled like shit and no one ever bothered to go there – and consumed enough sake to feel quite put at ease, he had also missed the rest of his classes for the day and was nursing a high buzz with which he was loathe to part. So, rather committed to his course of action, Shunsui had simply stayed put, drinking through half his supply as the day waned into night.

Once full darkness had fallen and Shunsui was quite certain he was very, very drunk, he finally staggered to his feet and aimed himself in the direction of the men's dormitories. He'd already passed under the hellmoth coops once this month, and while it was quite cozy on the guano it was not an entirely pleasant odor to wake up to, especially when mingled with the vomit that was becoming more and more inevitable by the moment.

Lurching awkwardly in what he presumed was the right direction, Kyouraku hummed to himself; it was a balmy evening and he was in high spirits.

"I'll look uuuuup while I'mmm walking..." With a loud clunk, Shunsui ran head-first into a low-slung tree branch. Reeling for moment, he blinked hard to clear his vision and decided to take his own advice, his low, raspy baritone wavering as badly as his steps. "Sooo the tears don't fall....from my eeeeeyes..." A scuffing sound behind him threw Shunsui badly off-key, but he soldiered on. "I thiiiink back to spring daaaays-" _ It is spring right now, come to think of it._ The poignancy of the lyrics made Shunsui sappy; tears welled up as he drew a fresh lungful of fragrant air. "It's a lonely niiiight-!!"

"Oiy. Not so lonely, _Kyouraku_."

Shunsui's first, soggy thought was that some fair maiden, enchanted by his singing, had appeared out of thin air to meet his every desire. Since the actual voice was rugged, male and decidedly angry, Shunsui quickly reevaluated this idea. Blinking hard and – from long practice – forcing the sake out of his brain, he took in his surroundings.

Several figures stood in a loose circle around him, shrouded in darkness. Five large, broad-shouldered figures to be exact, their postures a little too casual to be anything but threatening. A surge of adrenalin further cleared Shunsui's foggy mind as he raced to adjust to this new and alarming situation. At the same time, purely by instinct, he slipped into the best shit-faced-drunk routine he could muster on short notice.

"Why, hellu gennelmen. Whu can I do fer ya thiz fahn evenin'." Thickly slurred, with an exaggerated sway on top of it, Shunsui's ever-clearing brain quickly ran odds. _Three to one they're upperclassmen. One in ten chance they've got a bone to pick. Only an outside chance this was some random and utterly benign chance encounter and they just wanted to go their separate ways_....

"I've got a bone to pick with you, Kyouraku," the closest figure snarled. Shunsui sighed; one in ten it was. In the faint moonlight, the miscreant's face was hard to decipher but his posture was undeniably infuriated; shorter than Kyouraku but broader through the chest, Shunsui quickly decided that this must be the ringleader.

"Huh." Patting himself absently, Shunsui pivoted drunkly on his heel, whipping in a slovenly twirl as if trying to look over his own shoulder and failing miserably. In reality, the little stunt gave him a quick 360 view of the courtyard; yep, five total, at least three of them openly armed and he was willing to bet his asshole that the other two had similar cudgels hidden on them somewhere. Kyouraku halted awkwardly in front of the ringleader, still patting himself and looking sad and confused. "I only got thu one 'bone' thah I can find, and I don' think you'dall be innnerest'd innit." Grinning like a moron, he adjusted himself blatantly.

The short, stocky kid fumed, one hand snaking behind his back. "My name is Tachibana Nariko," the boy growled. Sure enough, a long, blunt stick was produced and brandished threateningly at Shunsui's face. "Do you know that name?"

Kyouraku made a show out of staring at the end of the cudgel blankly for a long moment, blinking owlishly. "Uhh....do I owe you money?"

With a communal snarl, the whole circle tightened. Nariko hissed, his face twisting into a mask of fury.

"Then how about the name Tachibana _Miki_??"

_Oh high holy shitballs._ Miki. Sweet little Miki, with upturned lips that tasted like strawberries and a very appealing willingness to sneak into a certain Kyouraku's dorm room late at night...

Miki with the overprotective older brother who would never in a million years believe that his sister's assignations were entirely consensual. Shunsui's stomach sank even as the rest of his body tensed; he swayed dramatically to cover as his balance shifted subtly onto the balls of his feet. No way was this _not_ going to turn into a fight. Totally unarmed and still moderately intoxicated, Shunsui made use of the one and only option available to him.

If he got them mad enough to charge, he might have a chance in hell of slipping away in the confusion. So he took a deep breath, blinked in as buffoonish a manner possible, and queried with the innocence of a babe in arms.

"Miki who?"

All in all, Kyouraku thought he managed rather well. As it turned out, even infuriated, the upperclassmen still knew how to hold a perimeter. The first few moments were pretty fucked up; the only blows that didn't send shockwaves of pain through Shunsui's addled system were the ones that landed squarely on the sake bottles still hidden in his robes. As one of those bottles was tucked near his vitals, Shunsui thanked his lucky stars that at least he still had the chance of fathering children someday. In that, too, his inebriation worked in his favor for that first onslaught, dulling the pain just enough to keep Kyouraku from blacking out.

Then he managed to get his hands on one of the swinging cudgels, and things got _really_ interesting.

He landed a few blows, took quite a few more, and had the satisfaction of getting at least one of the thugs to crumple to the ground with a scream of agony. That's just about when his luck ran out, however, as a crack to the left kidney had Shunsui dropping in his own wave of sickening torment. Gagging, he screwed shut his eyes and waited for unconsciousness to rescue him.

Suddenly the blows stopped falling. Shunsui was still in more than enough pain to roll around on the ground for a few moments before he could lift his head. Blinking through the blood trickling into his eyes, Kyouraku forced his addled brain to register what was happening around him.

Half his assailants were on the ground as well, writhing back and forth as blue lightning licked them from head to toe. The remaining pair was battling furiously as bursts of kido exploded everywhere, setting the night air on fire.

In the middle of it all, grimacing fiercely like a riled lynx, was Jyuushirou. He was throwing demon-lightning fast and hard, his eyes tight in a way that made Shunsui think, absurdly, of a skeleton.

It was a long, hard moment before Shunsui realized that Ukitake was trying to _rescue_ him.

The world lurched as quite a different stomach pain threatened to thoroughly nauseate Kyouraku.

_No, stop! _Shunsui tried to yell, but his throat was too tight, the wind still knocked out of him.

It was too late anyway. One of the bullies landed a lucky blow, hard and sharp across Ukitake's ribcage. With a grunt, Jyuushirou fell to a knee, one hand smacking on the cobblestones to steady himself. The other hand still threw licks of electricity, but it was not enough. A swift kick in the gut from Nariko himself and the pale noble fell to his hands and knees, kido winking out as he gasped for breath.

"What the hell are you _doing_, Nariko?!" One of the smaller bullies grabbed his friend before he could land another blow. "That's _Ukitake_, you idiot; you want Old Man Yama after us?"

With a furious grimace, Tachibana weighed his options. It only took a second before he cursed, turned like the bully-coward he was and ran for the safety of the shadows, his companions skittering after him.

Long moments passed, groaning and coughing the only sounds filling the small square. Finally, when Shunsui was reasonably certain he could move without upchucking, he dragged himself painfully to his hands and knees and crawled towards his skinny rescuer.

"Yoush," he croaked. "I totally had those guys, you know." He tried a lopsided grin, wincing at the splits in his lips, and drew closer to a still-gasping Jyuushriou. "Oiy, relax. You put up a good fight. Nick of time, too – uh, thanks." The gratitude tasted more bitter than the blood in his mouth, but Shunsui forced himself to swallow both. When the slender boy continued to shudder and gasp, Shunsui lurched to his knees, amusement fading.

"Hey, they didn't hit you _that _hard. What's wr-?"

Ice water surged through Kyouraku's veins as Jyuushirou turned. Blood was literally pouring out of his mouth, spraying crimson with every sharp cough. His already pale skin was nearly translucent, and there was panic in his wide, hazel eyes.

"_Fourth_," Ukitake managed to whisper, barely audible, before another wave of blood gushed out of him and he collapsed in a heap on the cobblestones.


	7. Hits the Fan

"So, hang on. Let me get this straight." Ukitake's voice, uncharacteristically peeved, broke in. "My first miserable year at school was not only more or less _entirely_ your fault," His expression set Shunsui twitching with guilt. "But what prompted your choosing me as the focus of your shenanigans was _you_ running into _me_ in the medical ward." Ukitake's flat glare was enough cold to freeze the entire room.

Kyouraku fidgeted like water on a hot skillet. "Well, it wasn't just that," he protested anemically. "There was the whole goody-two-shoes thing... and your stupid sunny attitude..." He trailed off. Ukitake positively glowered. "You were _really_ annoying!" Shunsui shouted defensively, his voice ringing hollow. A long silence allowed tension in the room continued to climb higher than Sougyoku Hill. Every member of the SWA, to a one afraid to draw breath, tried to vanish into the floorboards.

Finally, Shunsui twitched into a sloppy smile, tittered one uncomfortable laugh and darted out the door. Everyone watching him vanish in complete amazement.

"Did he just _run away_?" Soi Fon asked, incredulously.

Ukitake sighed, deflating somewhat. "Not quite. It's been about 60 minutes." A dozen confused pairs of eyes turned to him; uncomfortable at the sudden attention, Jyuushirou's cheeks pinked. "When Shunsui's drinking, he has to, ah...relieve himself every hour on the hour." His blush deepened. There was a long pause. "You could set your watch by it," he added weakly, looking as if he'd wished he never said anything. Across the room, not seeming to realize she was doing it, Nanao Ise nodded absently in agreement.

Kiyone gaped at her. Nanao noticed and blushed crimson. "Well, he _does_," she muttered, stubbornly defensive.

Yachiru leaped to her feet. "Does this mean you're angry at Pinky-chan? If you're mad then you're gonna fight, right??"

Ukitake, taken aback, regarded the toddler with wide eyes. "No, of course I'm not angry at him. It does explain a lot, in hindsight," he sighed, grimacing with chagrin. "But it doesn't change anything really. We were still friends from there on."

"You mean you _forgave_ him?" Isane gawped.

"I didn't know there was anything to forgive, at the time," Ukitake chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with a lopsided grin. "The only thing on my mind was whether or not anyone else found out about my, ah, condition. Not to mention finishing my first year. Back then, I thought my first year was going to be my _only_ year..."


	8. One Year Down

Very, very slowly, Jyuushirou opened his eyes.

His senses took in a scene all too familiar. Stark, white walls. Right angles. The slow, drip-drip-drip of medication into his veins. The hiss of the ventilator and, just underneath it whispering in counterpoint, the gurgle of a humidifier. The familiar, blurry image of a fretting family member hovering in the corner, waiting for him to regain consciousness for a few precious moments before he slipped under again...

With a jolt, Ukitake forced his hazel eyes to focus. The expected brooding figure was indeed fretting in a corner, but it was not a familiar family member.

Jyuushirou took a shallow, pained breath and forced a tiny curve onto his lips. "Hey."

Further proof the lurker wasn't a family member; instead of flocking like a worried bird, it was a long moment before the shadowy figure stirred. And then he was hovering over Jyuushirou's bedside like a dark cloud and something soft was mopping at his forehead. It was another dragging moment before the figure spoke.

"Well, you made a damn fucking mess of things."

Jyuushirou managed to widen his grin imperceptibly. "I do that," he whispered, barely audible.

"I mean, really. There I was – totally _owning _those guys," Kyouraku's rumbly voice rolled through the room, rough with an emotion Ukitake couldn't place. "And you just show up in the middle of everything and make a fucking mess of things."

This time Ukitake's lips parted more easily. "You already said that," he wheezed softly.

"Well, I meant it." The dabbing at his forehead became rough.

Ukitake tried to reply, but something caught in his chest. It was several moments before he could get the sharp, shattering coughs to abate. When Jyuushirou finally stilled, gasping quietly and trying to hide the crimson flecks on his palm, Shunsui's deep baritone filled the room again.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Jyuushirou sighed as much as he could, eyes sliding shut. "I didn't tell _anyone_," he prevaricated.

Kyouraku growled once then quieted, waiting. The dabbing continued.

Ukitake studiously gathered air. "I didn't want anyone to know. It's....stupid." He grimaced, coughed once, and then forced himself to stillness. Another measured intake. "It's irrelevant." His voice was feather-thin, the whisper of a butterfly's wings.

This time it was a healthy snort that ripped through the air. "Your lungs don't work, and you're fit to drop at any moment. At what point does _that_ become irrelevant?" Shunsui snarled, for once sounding not the least bit amused.

Ukitake almost chuckled but caught himself. With considerable effort, he forced his lids open and met chocolate brown eyes, only a foot way and trying to hide oceans of concern under a veneer of anger.

That gave Jyuushirou a moment's pause; he had never seen Kyouraku angry before. Annoyed yes, occasionally even vexed. But not outright angry. He noted with little surprise that the young Kyouraku wore the emotion with the same unbridled passion with which he approached everything else.

"Sorry, I forget that this can be a shock," he replied, allowing a hint of irony lace his somber tone. "I've gotten used to it, but it's not everyday you find out someone's days are numbered." Jyuushirou did his best to look complacent. Comforting.

It didn't seem to work; Shunsui twitched, agitated. "Why haven't they cured you yet?"

Jyuushirou's eyes drifted closed again; he felt abominably tired. "They can't."

A pause, followed with a growl. "Have they tried-?"

"_Everything_. Trust me." Jyuushirou's eyes opened and he deliberately used the familiar for the first time. "Shunsui-san, I have no reason to lie about this."

All he did was fuel the flames of Kyouraku's anger. "But...you're a _soul_! And a noble to boot - there has to be _something_ that can be done!" he argued, his expression full of wretched disbelief.

"Not everything can be healed. Not even in Soul Society," Ukitake replied, his voice tired. This was all so familiar, he barely had the energy to go through the motions. What couldn't be changed must be accepted...

Kyouraku seemed to be reading off an entirely different script. "Horse shit," he spat. "You can't tell me they're just going to let this _kill_ you!?"

Ukitake launched into the familiar story, speaking in measured tones of acceptance. "When I was a boy, I started coughing. I didn't stop for months. My parents summoned every healer they could afford, and when my hair turned white they went beserk. Money ceased to be a factor; my case is unique and doctors sought _us_ out. I've seen every healer in the Rukongai, Sereitei and the noble clans. No one has ever seen anything like this and no one has any answers," Jyuushirou's voice dropped. "Except that it cannot be cured. That much is a consensus." Kyouraku's expression didn't budge a whit; he continued to simmer. Jyuushirou felt an inexplicable need to reassure him. "Kyouraku, I've come to accept that, sooner or later, this thing will kill me."

"Great," Shunsui snapped, turning and stalking away in uncharacteristic fury. "Well_, I _sure as hell haven't."

Jyuushirou watched him go, his skin tingling with something close to amazement. He'd lived with his illness for so long, surrounded by those who, like him, had begrudgingly but eventually accepted it as fact, that to see his condition actually upsetting someone was surprisingly uncomfortable. It was a strange feeling, heady, the knowledge that this strange boy who'd blustered into his life was willing to fight the inevitable fate of someone he barely knew.

Like he fought everything. Jyuushirou grinned faintly, wondering why he was so surprised. The day Kyouraku Shunsui took something lying down would be the day the sun rose in the west. What Ukitake couldn't figure out, though, was why Kyouraku would care about _his_ fate of all people? Friends they might be, but Ukitake knew all too well that Kyouraku's loyalties were better off planted elsewhere.

_Why would _anyone _want to invest in a hopeless cause._.?

He'd barely got his mental teeth sunk into contemplating this new mystery before a quiet voice at the door interrupted him.

"Frowning is not recommended for swift recovery."

Ukitake's lips curled up without effort. "Yes, Doctor," he replied playfully as he made an effort to smooth out his brow.

"Don't say things like that. They might come true," Retsu replied, affectionately horrified, as she glided to his bedside. She regarded him keenly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he replied automatically, hoping that she hadn't mistaken his frown for discomfort.

She seemed to answer the unspoken. "If I had known Kyouraku-san was going to yell at you, I would not have let him in."

"No, it's fine," Ukitake immediately protested, slightly embarrassed. "He's just angry. At me, I think." He wasn't quite able to keep the frustration out of his voice; all this time and effort to keep his illness hidden – for this very reason – all for naught.

"He's not angry at you," Retsu contradicted quietly. "He's angry at himself."

That caught Ukitake by surprise. "At himself?" he parroted stupidly, eyes wide. "Whatever for?"

Unohana took a moment to answer, and when she did it didn't seem like she was saying everything she wanted to. "For not finding out earlier."

"I'm sorry he found out at all," Ukitake shot back before he could bottle his regret. Embarrassed by the admission, he felt his cheeks warming.

Unohana took a deep breath and, uncharacteristically, sat down demurely on the very edge of his pallet. "Did you really think no one would ever find out?" Honest curiosity softened the question.

Ukitake gave himself enough time to answer that he could be certain of his honesty.

"No." It came out nearly a whisper. "But I had _hoped_..." There didn't seem any reason to finish his sentence. Hazel eyes stayed pinned to the bedsheets while Ukitake's resolve slowly returned to him, covering the disappointment. "I don't want it to change anything, though." He finally raised his chin, meeting Unohana's endless eyes with iron determination in his own.

She smiled gently. "Not all changes are bad, Ukitake-san. Sometimes the hottest fires forge the strongest steel," she offered, rising to her feet and reaching behind his head to adjust his pillow. "Now get some rest; you'll need need it if you want to finish the semester."

Jyuushirou's chest twinged involuntarily. "Do you think...?" He swallowed hard, changing the insecure question into a statement of fact. "They have to let me out in time. I've got to finish the year."

Retsu watched him for a long moment before smiling. "There's only two weeks left. I'm sure, if you rest well tonight, you can convince them to let you test out." Her hand brushed his forehead, ostensibly checking his temperature. It lingered a moment longer than necessary. "I'll put in a good word for you."

Ukitake nodded obediently and settled back, letting his eyes drift closed as he listened to Unohana glide out of his room. He tried to sleep, but after a long while his eyes slid open again. He stared into the growing gloom, deep in thought.

* * *

It took quite a heated debate combined with a display of pretend-health that nearly put Ukitake in bed again, but he convinced the Fourth doctors to let him return to the Academy. There followed a brutal two weeks of studying from his bed, trying not to blot his classroom texts with the crimson expulsions of his occasional relapses. When the week of final examinations arrived, Jyuushirou refused to take them lying down; gingerly he returned to his classes, far more concerned with the reception his classmates would give him than with the daunting tests ahead.

Blessedly, no one seemed aware that Jyuushirou had suffered more than a common ailment. While his friends greeted him enthusiastically and expressed concern for his health, no extra attention was paid to him. Kyouraku and Unohana seemed to have kept matters to themselves, and Ukitake took his tests with a lighter heart than he'd felt in weeks. Whether or not he had passed them was uncertain, but Jyuushirou remained optimistic. He had done his best, made it through the first year of school, and if he had surrendered only once to his terminal condition, he had found at least two friends that he could trust completely with his secret. That was more than he had hoped to gain in a lifetime, much less a single year of school.

The only remaining obstacle that loomed was graduation. End of year festivities were very formal and surprisingly ritualistic considering the Academy had hardly been in existence for a decade. Underclassmen were more or less insignificant, mere observers; it was upon the graduating class whom all focus fell. It was quite unlike any graduation ceremony Ukitake could imagine; there were no speeches, no academic designations. No commutation of wisdom or insight for the graduating students. The Academy was, after all, a military establishment and it had its own brutally effective ways of accomplishing things.

The graduating class stood at attention in the center of the square, overseen by the silent and imposing figure of Yamamoto-Genruusai and ringed by the Academy senseis as well as the rest of the students behind them, arranged by year and class. Everyone held stock-still, in full military parade and dead silence, from dawn until the sun rose high in the sky – a stunning display of military discipline that had Ukitake's limbs shivering faintly from exhaustion. Swallowing, he forced himself to focus; he would be damned if he allowed himself to faint before the ceremonies had even begun.

As the morning lumbered on, Jyuushirou screwed his eyes shut and summoned every ounce of strength he could, leaning on the spirit power within him to stay upright. He didn't know how long he battled within himself, but he only had so much energy. He watched it slowly trickle out of him and knew he wouldn't make it through the entire ceremony unaided. Yet to fail now, at the very end of a conquered school year, would only shame his family and undo all his hard work so far. Resolved, he dug deeper...and with a shock, felt another spirit signature brushing up next to him. A faint surge of reiatsu, not entirely unfamiliar, pressed in on one side, for all the world as if giving him something to lean on. Ukitake did so gratefully, drinking in the strength like a dying man drinking water in a desert. After a moment, another reiatsu drifted up on the other side of him, offering assistance as well. Between then Ukitake held, sustained.

Jyuushirou wasn't trained enough in kidou or spirit power to pick out with certainty the individuals lending him their power, but it didn't take much for him to guess. He would have had to break ranks in order to look around and pick out Unohana and Kyouraku from the crowd, so he simply held still, leaned on their proffered strength, and slipped as much gratitude into his own flagging reiatsu as he could manage.

Finally, the sun high overhead, the sensei's began to bark commands. As one, the graduating students moved, gliding from one form to another, the riveting display punctuated by nothing more than the rustle of robes, the whisper of katanas cutting the still air, and the occasional cry of kiai. Fourscore graduates moved and wended as if breathing one breath, dancing to a single tune, trained to a degree of synchrony that was mind-boggling.

Bolstered and fascinated, Ukitake watched from the crouch of his formal seiza, realizing that if he looked closely enough, minute differences could be found. Some students - a very notable few - moved with an added fluidity that was barely discernible, but unmistakable. As if they drifted on a river of power flowing through themselves. These were the students with above-average reiatsu, those even Jyuushirou could tell had potential above and beyond the ordinary. Watching them was like watching the sun glitter on water, or the wind stir through a field of grass - movement as natural as it was beautiful. Ukitake watched, unconsciously syncopating his breathing to the dance before him. Exhaustion forgotten, he drank in the scene, mesmerized.

Before long, the forms dissolved into a stylized form of sparring, a display of combat that was both coordinated and spontaneous. Quickly, the more ordinary students fell to the wayside, ostensibly 'slain' by certain types of contact-strikes, in keeping with the theatrics of it all. Soon - an hour maybe, or only a few heartbeats, who could tell? - there were less than a dozen students in the center of the square, and the dance became more intense. Still with a beauty and restraint that implied impeccable control, the remaining students combated with an ever-increasing ferocity.

The purpose for the sparring was obvious; Ukitake snuck a glance to the sidelines where a row of formidable, stone-faced captains watched the proceedings from high perches on the edges of the square. This was not so much a graduation as it was an audition. The students before him were not only displaying their acquired skills, but they were petitioning for acceptance to the Gotei squads. The captains stood and watched, making silent judgments behind their marble expressions.

Feeling a tightness in his chest, Jyuushirou returned his gaze to the center of the square. There were only a couple of students left, their movements looking more and more like a duel to the death. While those who fell short still dropped back hale and whole, they left grunting in pain, rubbing sore shoulders or ribs where bruises and scrapes would be felt for days. There was a growing, ruthless brutality to the competition that was utterly riveting. As the sun crested overhead and began its descent, Ukitake felt his limbs begin to tremble again - whether from exhaustion or anticipation, he couldn't say. Finally, there were only two combatants; the square echoed with their grunts and war cries, katanas flashing like lightening as the air shimmered from heat...

And then it was over. One of the final two students dropped back with a ferocious growl of disappointment, favoring his right leg. The last man standing almost immediately offered his defeated opponent a bow of gratitude and respect. For a long moment, the whisper of wind was the only the sound that wended through the assembly.

And then Yamamoto-dono spoke. "Well done, Student. What is your name?"

The young man who had defeated all of his classmates turned and dropped into a full military seiza, his dark hair matted with sweat. His voice was tired, but controlled. "Sasakibe Choujirou, Yamamoto-sutaicho!"

Another long silence in the blistering heat, before Yamamoto-dono grunted. "Well done, graduating class. You are dismissed, with honors."

And then it was over. The graduating students let loose with a cacophony of hoots and hollers, cries of victory and relief. They stirred up the dust with their exultation, making up for the stiff formality of their graduation with unmodulated celebration. The lower classes joined them, awed by the skill and accomplishments of their superiors and with no small relief and delight at their own hard year of school over and done.

Jyuushirou did not join them; the trembling in his limbs was melting into an all-too-familiar weakness, and his chest was tight in a way that discouraged shouting of any kind. He just crouched there in the rising dust as his classmates jubilated around him, fighting the painful hitch that threatened to blossom into a full-blown coughing fit, hoping to escape notice long enough to sneak back to his rooms and collapse. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it on his own, but the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself...

"Oiy, pretty-boy! You just gonna sit there all day??" A loud, boisterous voice bulldozed into Ukitake's awareness. A large hand clamped onto his shoulder and dragged Jyuushirou to his feet; thankfully it stayed there, steadying him.

Ukitake forced himself to smile at Shunsui-san's exuberance. "That was something, huh?" he gasped, still reeling from the show of combat they'd been privileged to witness._ If only I could hope to be half so good someday_...

Kyouraku's arm snaked around his thin shoulders, all but lifting him off the ground "Bah! That's nothin' compared to the partyin' that they're gonna do now." Shunsui crowed, his words slurring slightly as his eyes gleamed with a familiar, drunken glaze. "Which means, a' course, we gotta join 'em!"

Ukitake's nose wrinkled at the rank scent of stale sake; how Kyouraku had managed to get intoxicated during the formal ceremony completely eluded him. "Join them?" he repeated weakly; his chest hurt abominably and he wasn't sure if he was even going to be able to walk back to his rooms at this point.

"Shur! Gotta show these _pansies_ how it's done, right?" Kyouraku let out a belly laugh and launched them in the direction of the main gates, his steps weaving unsteadily. Ukitake had no choice but to follow, dragged along by Kyouraku's greater strength and the arm locked around his shoulders.

Ukitake had no energy to break loose; still, he tried to protest. "Shunsui, my room...I have to pack-" His chest twinged sharply. He only had moments before he lost the battle with his belligerent lungs.

"Bah, plenny a time for that later. Here, get start'd – yer already behind." Shunsui pulled out a sake bottle and shoved it at Jyuushirou.

Kyouraku's aim was atrocious; the warm liquid sloshed all over Ukitake's face and down his front. Spluttering in shock, he lost what little composure he had left and erupted into a staccato fit of coughs.

Unfathomably, Shunsui picked up the pace, stumbling occasionally. "That a boy! Mama's milk is what tha' is; you'll be drownin' in it before nightfall!"

Jyuushirou tried to stop his fit, flushing deeply at the scene Kyouraku was making. The way they were tottering about and reeking of sake, onlookers would thing they were both tanked out of their gourds. "Shunsui – stop..." He could get no more out, lost in painful spasms.

It didn't let up. The square began to swim, Ukitake's vision misting as he hacked miserably. Shunsui was all but carrying him, ignoring his feeble protests as he hurried him along. Around him, Ukitake could hear their classmates murmuring curiously, mostly amused, some playfully jeering. He felt a little panicky as his lungs began to rattle wetly; a few more moments and he would start spitting blood, and there would be no way to hide the severity of his condition.

Suddenly, the sounds of the square muted, and he was unceremoniously dumped onto a cushioned seat. Eyes popping open in surprise, Jyuushirou took in the cramped, dark interior of his family's jinriksha. Katashi's concerned face loomed close by.

"Get him out of here." Shunsui's voice rang with a timbre of command Ukitake had never heard before. It was also, Jyuushirou noted absently, completely articulate. Kyouraku's brown eyes sparkled mischievously at him, entirely sober and all too perceptive. "Hang in there, kid. You'll be home in no time." A large hand patted his knee awkwardly for a moment, and then Kyouraku was gone, calling to some upperclassmen with a re-acquired slur.

Katashi pulled the curtain shut, rapping sharply on the wall. The cart jerked into motion, jouncing full-speed over the cobblestones. "Young Master...?"

"I'll be alright," Jyuushirou wheezed. "Just get me home." He screwed his eyes shut and concentrated on getting his faulty lungs to work, drawing just enough breath to stay conscious. As they sped away from the Academy, he heard Kyouraku's slurry voice drifting away behind them.

"Young-un's, can' hold their liquor. Better off sendin' him home; come on, let's go find a real party...!"

Ukitake's lips curled up slightly, despite the miserable pain in his chest. The whole drunken display had been a cover. For _him_. With a pang, Jyuushirou realized just how good of a friend the young Kyouraku was turning out to be, even though he remained utterly confounded as to why he would merit such generosity. His thoughts jumbled along with the jinriksha as a warm feeling spread through him...and then he started coughing again and didn't stop until everything went black.


	9. Where There's a Will

With a groan, Ukitake slowly forced his eyelids open.

They felt gritty, like sandpaper; for an age, his vision refused to focus and his lungs felt like they had been scoured from the inside out with acid. Jyuushirou made an attempt to wade through the fog in his head but found no firm memory of anything after graduation. Only a blurry mix of impressions came to his consciousness: jostling about in the _jinriksha_ with the flustered figure of old Katashi hovering over him, endless coughing...pain...._drowning_...

Jyuushirou stifled another groan. This level of memory loss usually meant an especially bad episode. Merely thinking along those lines made him want to set off again, so he concentrated on drawing one careful lungful of air after another into his aching chest. With time his vision cleared, along with other sensory input; the smell of earth and spice and jasmine, the distant sound of babbling water, the quiet thrum of familiarity that wrapped around him like a warm blanket.

Ugendo. _Home_.

Ukitake sighed minutely in deep and abiding contentment.

After an eternity, Jyuushirou tentatively stretched his stiff limbs, gritting his teeth at their recalcitrance. He must have been out for days, if not weeks, to be so immobile. He was just setting to the task of working life back into his muscles when, at the edge of his sight, a shadow stirred and quickly vanished through the door to his bedroom.

A servant, off to tell his family that he was awake. Another sigh; Jyuushirou knew all too well which of them would be the first to present themselves.

On the whole the Ukitake family was warm and loving, completely different from the staid and formal miens with which most noble families comported themselves...but his mother was a being unto herself. The Ukitake matriarch was a she-lion of the fiercest kind and when she made up her mind on something, she was not to be crossed. Of all Jyuushirou's family members, his mother had capitulated last to his terminal prognosis, effortlessly shifting from a staunch refusal of his condition to a determined campaign to keep her firstborn son alive as long as possible.

For his part, Jyuushirou had learned well from her example – his fierce determination came almost entirely from the maternal side of his parentage. Which meant, of course, that he had just as deep a stubborn streak when his resolve was set. Still, while he had words to trade with his mother about the letter she'd sent to Yamamoto-dono, Jyuushirou was hardly up to a verbal battle at the moment. He also knew that his poor health was not enough to deter his mother, and steeled himself accordingly.

Sure enough, within moments, the door to his room slid open.

The manner in which Ukitake Kimi swept into the room was designed to draw admiring gazes from any virulent male within a considerable distance. Not that she was putting on such a display for her own son; everything Kimi did was calculated to raise herself above the common element. She was a glorious study in dichotomy; born a breathtakingly beautiful heiress of a higher caste, Kimi had stubbornly married for love but never ceased in her efforts to elevate her subsequent family into proper society. Indeed, whatever level of begrudging respect the Ukitakes had earned over the decades could be attributed fully to Kimi's efforts alone. Her husband was entirely unconcerned with noble life and preferred to occupy his time with family and household matters. Ukitake Hiroshi treated everyone as if they were dear and trusted friends, high-born and servants alike, much to the disdain of proper nobles and his wife's eternal chagrin. Kimi had yet to reconcile her deep and abiding devotion to Hiroshi with her frustration that the very qualities she loved most about him kept the Ukitakes from the lofty social circles where she so clearly belonged.

Gliding to a halt at Jyuushirou's bedside, Kimi's elegant entrance was only slightly marred by her brushing his forehead in genuine maternal concern.

"How are you feeling, dearest?"

Ukitake smiled faintly. "Much better," he wheezed, trying to sound stronger than he felt.

She wasted no time at all. "I knew it was a terrible idea to send you to this so-called academy, and I can clearly see that I have been vindicated." Kimi frowned prettily, her worry evident and heartfelt even as she mastered her delight. "You will not be returning, of course, which is all for the best. The Flower Ball is right around the corner, and I could certainly make use of you at the Dragon Festival this fall. You will be well enough for both, I should think." Kimi generally discussed Jyuushirou's health as if it were a truculent servant; something that did what you told it to, most of the time, and only inconvenienced you enough to consider trading it for another if you could be bothered with the paperwork.

"I will be well in time for the Flower Ball," Jyuushirou agreed, but then allowed his tone to harden. "_And_ I will be returning to the Academy at the end of the summer. Seeing as that conflicts with the Dragon Festival, you will just have to make use of Jiro for that particular excursion. He enjoys that sort of thing better than I do, anyway." He dropped his second brother's name expertly and waited for the cooling of his mother's gaze. He was not disappointed; effortlessly, Kimi's expression shifted into a lovely woundedness, designed to make any man instantly search his soul for what offense he might have caused and repent of it immediately. Jyushirou, however, noted well the tightening around her eyes, the slight stiffness in his mother's shoulders. His mother wasn't hurt, she was feeling thwarted.

"Jyuushiro, pet..." Kimi started in her most reasonable voice, her frustration carefully smoothed down, but Ukitake quietly cut her off.

"I have been top of my class all year, and we both know it would reflect well on the family to set a precedent in achievement at the new academy. It certainly would _not _do to drop out unceremoniously." Kimi's left eyebrow flickered faintly, annoyed at the truth of his parry. Jyuushirou shrugged in a studiously nonchalant manner. "Besides, I am enjoying myself at school." It was the truth, and he was hoping it would disarm his mother long enough to see reason.

He couldn't have been more wrong. Between one eyeblink and the next. Kimi's the expression of concern vanished, replaced by the distinct impression of a hawk that had just spotted a field mouse. "Yes," his mother chirped. "I hear you are _indeed_ enjoying yourself." Something in her tone made heat rise to Jyuushirou's cheeks. Kimi rose and glided around the end of his bed, pointedly busying herself with a floral arrangement. "Tell me," she purred in her most innocent voice. "Have you made any friends at this academy?"

"Some," Ukitake admitted, his lip twitching as he suddenly realized where this was going. "Most of them are Rukogians, not families you would know."

Kimi nodded thoughtfully. "Most," she allowed, continuing in a too-casual lilt. "But not all. I worry about the influences..._others_ might be having on you."

Ukitake very nearly smiled. Had his mother always been this obvious, or had a year away from home really opened his eyes so much? "Kyouraku-san." Jyuushirou refused to grant his mother the satisfaction of pronounced familiarity. "He is...interesting."

Kimi emitted a small sound that would have been a disgusted grunt in anyone else; without warning, she switched tactics on him.

"This is all my fault. Too long I've kept you from the more..._common_ elements of life, and you are naturally curious. It's not surprising you would find such a comrade _interesting_." Slender shoulders dropped in a show of delicate disapproval. "Just be sure, dear son, that you keep such associations in their proper perspective."

"You worry too much, Mother," Jyuushirou countered smoothly, his voice like arctic silk, temper flickering to life. It burned like ice. "I would have thought you'd approve of my attachment to such a high noble House."

He made the mistake of looking up and meeting his mother's penetrating gaze.

Kimi's eyes narrowed prettily, dangerously. "Good gods, Jyuushirou, I hope you are not adopting any sexual proclivities that would threaten this family with scandal."

Baseless though her conclusions were, the implications cut deep. Jyuushirou's chest tightened, his sudden cold fury translating into an expression that revealed far too much, too easily misinterpreted. For once in his life, Jyuushirou didn't think he cared. He found that feeling exhilarating. "And if I was, Mother?" he asked, too softly.

A flash of something crossed Kimi's face as she reached for her most reasonable tone. "Jyuushirou, we've talked about this. It's perfectly natural to want physical...intimacy," she spat, her opinion on presumed orientations all too clear in her expression. "But you're heir and _must _choose wisely. To get carried away in..._unproductive _indulgences of the flesh is hardly wise..."

He'd been around Shunsui too long. A rebellious streak surged through Jyuushriou, quick as lightning and impossible to resist. The words were out before he could stop them.

"Do not fear, Mother. I will not make the mistake of getting myself too well loved."

He was rewarded by the paling of her skin, the flinch of his mother's eyes as she buried the cut.

Jyuushirou almost reveled in it, too angry to measure his revenge - this was an old argument, and he was tired of losing it. Kimi fought tirelessly to see her family line well established, but Jyuushirou knew all too well that sooner or later that any mate he might choose would be required to watch him die. Asking that of his family was inevitable; asking that of someone else was unconscionable, in his mind. The fact that his mother's conclusions about Shunsui were baseless was irrelevant; for once Jyuushriou held the upper hand on this subject and could not back down. If he didn't held hold his ground now, he would never regain it later.

He met his mother's eyes ruthlessly, unflinchingly. Mutually hurt, equally stubborn, they sat in agonizing tableau for an endless moment, when suddenly, the door flew open and scattered the tension like a pile of autumn leaves.

"Niiiiii-san!" A small figure hurtled across the room and launched itself at the bed.

_"Ooof!"_ From long practice, Jyuushirou just barely managed to catch his youngest brother Yokio before the human missile could land squarely on his weak chest.

"Hey there, nugget," Ukitake wheezed, laughing as much as he was able.

A veritable avalanche of family members followed in short order.

"Hey there, yourself!" Amarante, Jyuushirou's next-youngest sister, turned the full effect of her mega-watt grin on him as she slipped into the room. Poetry had been set to her indefinable luminescence. "How are you feeling?"

"Bombarded," Jyuushirou gasped, grinning back. He tilted his head to catch the eye of his third sister, her skinny figure half-hiding behind Ama'. "How are the bees, 'Nari?"

Tiny Inari granted him a rare smile, slight as her frame.

"Buzzing," came her soft reply; the quietest of the Ukitake children, Inari could most often been found seeking solace among the honeycombs at the north end of the estate. She rarely spoke to anyone except the bees, and Jyuushirou; most of the rest of the family found her quite odd.

Jyuushriou nodded solemnly, as if her answer made perfect sense. "Kana hasn't been bothering them?"

"As _if_!" The stout sibling in question charged into the room, an oft-worn combative expression painting his strong features. " 'Nari can keep her _stupid _bees. I've got better things to do." Despite his words, Jyuushirou's incorrigible third brother scratched surreptitiously at what looked suspiciously like a sting on his upper arm. "I nearly caught the papa carp, Jyuu!"

"Oh no, you didn't!" Jyuushirou shot back in dismay, ignoring the twinge in his chest as his eyebrows drew together. "I told you to leave the fish alone!" he fretted, wondering how many of his beloved carp had survived his absence.

"He's exaggerating," piped in Makoto, slightly older than Kana and with a more assured presence, despite his younger brother's broader build. "What he means is, he was clumsy enough to fall into the lake and nearly drowned." Makoto twined slender fingers together as he shared a knowing grin with his eldest brother.

"I did _not_ fall in!" Too easily provoked, Kana fired back with fists clenched, quicksilver temper instantly ignited.

"_Peace_," interjected Yasuo, Jyuushirou's fourth brother, in a tone that quickly defused the animosity in the room. No one knew quite how Yasuo managed to do that, but he had the uncanny knack of bringing calm to any situation. "Our brother is barely recovered, this isn't the time for fist fights."

A short but poignant silence met that sobering statement, one which affected the youngest Ukitake son not a bit. Yokio wriggled like a gleeful puppy in his eldest brother's affectionate grip.

"Come outside and play with us, Jyuu-san!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Yokio, Jyuushirou is barely out of the woods." Kimi snatched her youngest out of Jyuushirou's arms, which were just starting to tremble from holding his exuberant brother. "You want to make him sick again?" she chided affectionately, not without an edge.

That momentary silence reigned again for a split second. Yokio looked so dejected that Jyuushirou couldn't help but smile at him reassuringly.

"I'll be up and about in no time, nugget. I promise you can help me feed the carps soon, ok? Whatever ones Kana has left alive..." He winked at his third brother before the fiery Ukitake could ball his fists up again.

"Take your time, they're fat enough already." Hiroshi announced amiably as he ambled into the room with a crooked grin. His warm eyes roamed across his familial brood, coming around to rest on his eldest son. "You look terrible."

"Thanks a lot. _You _try coughing yourself inside out and see how well you look afterwards," Jyuushirou groused affably, barely suppressing a grin as his father ruffled his pale hair, just the way he used to when Jyuushirou was no older than Yokio. He turned an earnest gaze up into paternal hazel eyes, the spitting image of his own. "How are the bonsai growing this year?"

"Better, without you around to denude them," his father returned with an affectionate chuckle. Jyuushirou blushed, but his father just roared a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, I hear you're making quite a name for yourself at this Academy." Oblivious, Hiroshi failed to catch the flash of annoyance in his wife's eyes.

Jyuushirou didn't, and swelled at the show of support. "I'm top of my classes," he affirmed, cheeks pinked with pride.

"Of course you are," Hiroshi said, as if there would be any other outcome. "I bet you're driving all the ladies to distraction; that takes out at least half the class..."

"Hiroshi," Kimi interjected with a roll of her stunning eyes.

"Oh, he knows I'm kidding," the Ukitake patriarch replied jovially, either missing his wife's tone or ignoring it completely. "Jyuushirou, you aren't taking any botany classes by any chance? The sakuras have been failing and I'm quite at a loss as to what's causing it. I thought aphids, perhaps..." He trailed off, a look of vague distress on his aging features.

Jyuushirou shook his head slightly, well used to his father's meandering thought patterns. "It's not exactly that kind of academy, Fath," he replied, utilizing his favorite paternal nickname.

"Oh, what a shame. Ah. Hrm," Hiroshio looked at quite a loss as to what other kind of academy there could be. Finally, he shrugged. "Ah well, at least the plague is isolated. The zinnias are looking lovely, and I'm sure the tulip beds wouldn't mind you visiting them. They've missed you, I think..."

"When you're _well enough_," Kimi said firmly, sending her husband a pointed look that he mostly missed. Hiroshi waved a hand in an absent manner.

"Of course, of course," he returned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "The gardens can wait. Right now my dear, we should probably wrangle up our brood and see about dinner; they're all surely hungry, and Jyuushirou will need a nap before facing the carps, I would think." Hiroshi reached over and tickled Yokio's tummy, making the boy squeal in delight as the rest of the Ukitake children chimed in their eagerness for sustenance.

Letting the familiar cacophony wash over him, Jyuushirou fought his drooping eyelids amidst a flush of reassurance. His father seemed to have a preternatural sense of his health, always knowing when to push his son or let him rest.

"Dinner's a good idea...I'll join you in a few hours, perhaps..." Jyuushriou assented sleepily, stifling a yawn. Woozily, the room dipped into darkness as his large eyes drifted shut.

The room whispered the soft sounds of family members drifting quietly away, accustomed to this scenario. A last touch on his forehead, the sound of Hiroshi's gentle tenor, as the room faded around Jyyushirou.

"Rest, my son. We'll be here when you wake up..."

_________

Summer waxed full as Jyuushirou healed; not his longest recovery time by a long shot, but not nearly as short as he'd hoped either. In the privacy of his thoughts he wondered if Academy was indeed taking a larger toll on him than he realized, although he would run himself through with a zanpaktou before openly admitting it. So Ukitake kept his niggling doubts to himself, ignored his mother's pointed glances, and slowly regained his strength. By late in the summer, he was taking long strolls around the family grounds, reveling in his mobility and the healing serenity of Ugendo.

It was on one such walk on a fine July day, the air warm and fragrant and seasoned with birdsong, that Jyuushirou discovered a trespasser.

He was just meandering near the outermost walls of the grounds when he heard an odd sound coming from within a small and nearly abandoned _chashitsu_. Situated against the banks of one of the mountain streams that fed the lake around which Ugendo was built, the former teahouse had proven to be too cold and damp for entertaining and had long ago been converted to a storehouse for fine beverages.

For all the world, the intruding sound from within was like a crash, followed by a muffled grunt of pain. Intrigued, since the Ukitake clan was notably unwealthy and had few earthly goods worth stealing, Jyuushirou found himself fiddling with the locked door and letting himself inside the dim building. Noting a small window, high near the ceiling and most decidedly broken into, Jyuushirou was just seizing reiatsu to defend himself and immobilize any threat when he recognized an unmistakable aura.

Stifling a groan, he rounded a stack of barrels.

In the gloom, Jyuushirou could just make out an unforgettably pink figure. Kyouraki Shunsui was sprawled inglamorously on his hind side in the middle of an aisle of barreled wine, staring at enough sake casks to drown a small district in Rukongai.

Eyes wide as saucers, Shunsui looked at him with something frighteningly close to ecstasy.

"Marry me," he whispered hoarsely.

Jyuushirou threw him an exasperated grimace. "Don't give my mother ideas. How did you get in here?"

Shunsui flashed his most incorrigible grin. "Present are both you and alcohol. The question you should be asking is - how did I not get in here _sooner_?"

"You could say that again. It's been two months since school ended," Jyuushirou tossed back, trying to be cross. Perversely, he felt unaccountably light-hearted.

Shunsui grinned and threw his arms out. "Ha! I _knew _you missed me!"

Jyuush sighed deeply and dodged a very clumsy attempt at an exuberant hug. "Like a bad habit," he fired back. "Shouldn't you be in jail or something?"

"I got out early on good behavior." Kyouraku winked in a ridiculously exaggerated manner. "Had to perform sexual favors, but luckily the warden was female..." Another chuckle, coupled with a dirty wink.

Dropping his shoulders in a semblance of defeat and fighting the inexplicable desire to grin like an idiot, Jyuushirou turned for the door. "Come on. Now that you're here, we might as well get you introduced."

Shunsui gave a look to the sake casks that would have broken the heart of Scrooge himself, but shuffled after his classmate. "Introduced? To whom?"

"My mother. She should be in the west tea room, this time of day." The slender, pale figure ghosted gracefully ahead of Shunsui in the dim light.

"Mother, hrm?" Shunsui mused, seeming to memorize every vintage he passed. A lopsided grin twisted his face. "Is she a looker?"

"She is stunning." Jyuushirou replied.

There was something in the simple admission that made Shunsui's blood chill. Whistling a meandering tuned under his breath, Kyouraku's off-key rendition turned into a hoot of appreciation as they emerged onto the expansive eastern lawn of Ugendo.

Jyuushirou quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

"Not bad, not bad at all." Shunsui's vague gesture took in the open fields, the lake glistening nearly to the horizon.

Jyuushirou took it wrong, flushing defensively. "It's not like the High Houses, I know, but..."

"No, no - it's beautiful." Something in the wide spaces, the simple landscaping, the clean lines of the modest buildings of the Ukitake shinden-zukuri, was open and inviting without being intimidating. It was totally unlike the Kyouraku estate in every possible way.

Shunsui liked it immediately. "You live _here_, pretty boy?"

The slender Ukitake grinned. "You know I do, that's why you broke in." Dark eyebrows frowned curiously. "Do you really like it?"

"Would I lie?" Shunsui grinned like an idiot, hoping to hide the honesty in his admission. "_Yoush_, if I lived here I would never leave."

"Yes, you would," Jyuush replied, a little too forcefully. "With a whole world out there to discover? You would take off the minute the opportunity presented itself, too..." His angular jaw snapped shut, a faint hint of color rising to his cheeks. The summer heat pressed heavily against the two trekking youths.

Discomfited by an unexpected swell of commiseration, Shunsui sought safety in banter. "Okay, good point. Matter of fact, let's skip the introductions. I know a great pub less than 50 flash steps from here..."

Jyuushirou let out a musical laugh, cut off short. He pressed a hand to his mouth briefly, but waved Shunsui off when he drew closer with concern on his face. Ukitake spoke a moment later, his voice slightly breathy with strain.

"Come along, you big coward. She already knows you're here, and it would be the height of rudeness not to say hello."

"How does your mother know I'm here?" asked Shunsui, who was awfully proud of his sneaking abilities.

"Because you got in," Jyuushirou countered drolly, noting Shunsui's wounded glance. "No offense to your talents, friend, but nothing goes on within these walls the Mother doesn't know about. You would not have made it past the outer walls if she hadn't let you, and that means she is eager to meet you. And Mother gets what she wants."

"Ahhh...it cannot be helped. Rumors of my prowess, once again, precede me!" Shunsui donned his most beleaguered, Don Juan expression.

Jyuushirou threw him a warning glance. "I know what you're thinking, Shunsui, but it would not be wise to play with her. Again no offense, but she is a master at these little verbal games, and the damage you could cause would take me quite a while to fix. Every look, every nuance will be noted and evaluated, not always correctly. Do not give her more things to harp on, please."

"Aw, come on, Jyuushirou. What more ideas could I give her?" Kouraku's loopy grin slid into shock at Ukitake's pained grimace. An earlier comment suddenly became relevant.

"Wait...you mean she thinks-"

"Yes."

"She thinks that _we're_-"

"_Yes_."

"_Huh_. Does she now?" Shunsui's voice was decidedly amused.

Jyuushirou gave him a glance that was pure murder. "Shunsui, I beg of you - for _once _use some discretion. For all her intelligence, Mother believes what she wants to believe. If you care for me at all," he stopped Shunsui just outside the screen doors to one of the nicer tea houses on the edge of a garden. "Keep your tongue in check. Be polite, and gods have mercy, be brief. And pray to High Heaven that she is in a good mood."

"Hey, pretty-boy, come on - it's me!" Shunsui's grin was nearly as contagious as it was infuriating.

With a sigh, Jyuushirou turned and reached for the shoji screen. "That's _exactly _what I'm afraid of."

Within seconds of drawing back the screen door, Ukitake knew this was going to go very badly. First of all, the prim and benign look on his mother's face told him that she was in a very bad mood indeed.

In the second place, before he could so much as speak a word to formally introduce Shunsui, the man swooped past him and threw his arms open wide.

"Mamasita!!" Kouraku cried in absolute delight.

* * *

"Hey, there you are!" Kyouraku huffed, rounding an especially dense copse of trees on the western end of lake Ugendo.

This day could hardly get worse. Not only had Shunsui gone _way _out of his way to find Ugendo in the first place - prompted by an irrational desire to make sure the Ukitake kid was alright, he'd looked like hell at the end of graduation - but no sooner had he found Jyuushirou then the kid had taken off in a fit of pique. Hours had passed since the pale Ukitake had fled the tea house wherein they'd been enjoying - Kyouraku thought - a delightful afternoon of tea and pastries. Ukitake's mother had proven to be an exceptional verbal opponent; Shunsui rarely had the pleasure of annoying so worthy a subject. She very nearly gave Shunsui's own father a run for his money...

But the fact remained that without sake the tea was quite bland, and without Ukitake the company had eventually cooled as well. As the sun had begun to golden and dip lower in the sky, Shunsui had actually begun feeling badly about running off his host and eventually excused himself. At which point, Kyouraku's task became quite clear: find Jyuushirou and smooth things over.

Preferably, the latter would involve large quantities of sake...actually, sake _first _sounded delightful, but that niggling guilt pressed Shunsui into doing things in proper order.

Unfortunately, Ukitake had proven much harder to find than a sake house, a fact which annoyed Shunsui to no end. Ugendo might not be well appointed but the grounds were vast. Truthfully, Shunsui would have given up at one point if he hadn't run into a tiny, slender girl in the woods, smelling of honey and staring at him solemnly. Wordlessly, she'd simply pointed toward the west end of the lake and, thoroughly creeped out, Shunsui had set off in that direction for little other reason than to get as far away from her as possible.

Oddly enough, finding Jyuushirou was relatively easy after that. Once Shunsui had a general direction, it wasn't too hard to find Ukitake's reiatsu drifting on the breeze coming off the lake. It was only a matter of time, stubbed toes and curses before Kyouraku stumbled into Ukitake's favorite hiding spot. Pale, smooth granite blocks tumbled across each other and jutted out into the lake, surrounded by dense overhanging branches that framed the space and kept the worst of the summer heat at bay. If not for the cool breeze coming off the lake and stirring snow-white hair, Shunsui might not have even noticed the stock-still figure sitting at water's edge. Kyouraku overlooked the tiny cove within which huddled his quarry.

"You gave me a merry chase," Shunsui grumbled, traipsing down towards water's edge. The granite felt farm through his sandals, off-setting the cool breeze nicely. "What the hell are you doing all the way out here?"

"It's my home, I can go where I please. No one asked you to follow me," Ukitake returned in a sour tone; sharp chin resting on criss-crossed arms, he continued to stare out at the water.

This brought Kyouraku up a bit. "Hey, I don't usually go to this much trouble to find something I can't drink." Pointedly, he rubbed an itch that stood a good chance of being poison oak.

"_You're_ the one who started trouble," Ukitake shot back, unmoved.

Instantly, Shunsui began to splutter. "_I _caused trouble?! I came all the way out here to visit a school friend-!"

"You broke _in_." Ukitake dug in his heels.

"...I was _sober_!" Kyouraku's best put-upon expression went thoroughly ignored.

"I found you in our _sake cellar_, Shunsui."

"But I wasn't _drinking _any of it!!" Kyouraku roared back, flailing his arms, much aggrieved.

Finally Ukitake whirled on him. Hazel eyes glared daggers. "Don't you dare act like the victim here! I practically _begged _you to be nice to my mother..."

"_You _introduced us!"

"... who no doubt has a _very _lasting impression of you." Ukitake finished. His expression passed angry and swung around to something deeper; something pained. "_Why do you have to make a mess out of everything_!?"

Coupled with that look, Kyouraku found himself surprisingly wounded. A hand flapped, as if to wave the unusual feeling away.

"Ehh...what can I say? It's a talent." he quipped, backpedaling and trying to sound light-hearted.

Ukitake continued to pin him with a scathingly perspicacious look. "No, it's not," he said suddenly, anger banked but still potent. "It's deliberate. Why?"

Kyouraku's discomfort peaked. "Everyone's gotta be good at something, right?" A disarming half-smile didn't quite come out right.

Ukitake's widened eyes caught the sunlight and turned a deep shade of green. "So, you're succeeding at failing?" Anger melted into confusion. "What's the point of that?"

A safe quib died on his tongue; Kyouraku found himself jostled into honesty. "Misdirection." Lips twisted wryly. "If everyone's looking one way, that leaves you free to go another."

Ukitake's dark eyebrows drew together as he wrestled through the dubious logic. "So, you actually _want _people to underestimate you?"

"Fewer things in life are more precious than low standards, my friend. If people think you're useless, they ask nothing of you." Kyouraku winked. "Life is less...complicated that way. People look right through you. It's like being invisible." Feeling unexpectedly relieved by this confession, Shunsui found himself nearly knocked over by a sudden clap of reiatsu that tore across the lake.

Ukitake stared at nothing, his face a thundercloud.

Shunsi gaped. "Hey, what's the matter with you!?"

Ukitake fought with himself for an endless moment that nearly frightened Kyouraku.

"I can't imagine anything worse," Jyuushirou finally choked out, eyes bright and locked on the distant horizon. "That would be like..._being dead already..._" His hoarse whisper set Kyouraku's hair on edge. He swallowed hard and seemed to gain back a modicum of control. "Is that really how you want to live your life?" Ukitake asked bleakly.

Kyouraku had never wanted a drink more badly in his life. His lips moved, against his will. "Some lives aren't worth living."

All Ukitake did was turn, and meet his eyes. And Shunsui was filled with the deepest sense of shame he'd ever experienced. He fumbled for words.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Yes, you did." Ukitake, replied. He sighed, his voice suddenly tired. "Don't apologize, I'm glad you're being honest. It explains a lot, actually." He barked a harsh, bitter sound. "You, with endless years ahead of you...why not waste some of them? Why live every single moment to the fullest..?" His angular jaw snapped shut.

Dawning realization blossomed in Kyouraku's head. He felt a moment of insight crash down on him, the type of which he usually avoided by being drunk as often as possible.

Truth sparked as blindingly as the sunlight dancing on the water. "That's why you joined the Academy."

Ukitake sagged, all the fury blowing out of him like a summer storm, there and gone. "Sort of, although that's hardly the only reason." He toyed the surface of the water with his toes. "I just...wanted _something _I did to matter."

A long silence, within which Kyouraku found himself drowning. "You're top of the class..." he supplied, lamely.

"So far. Last year was easy - almost all academics. Even an invalid can look good on paper," Jyuushirou returned, his voice anguished. "Next year we start _training_."

"Ah_." _Kyouraku suddenly realized where this was going. "So what's wrong with that? I seem to remember you taking out half a dozen upperclassmen pretty easily."

"I ended up in the hospital, Shunsui!" Ukitake's wail echoed across the waters as he huddled in around his anguish. "There is no way anyone will take the risk of training with me."

"That's assuming anyone knows..."

"They know enough, or at least they suspect," Jyuushirou finished bleakly. "Even those upperclassmen backed off, the moment they realized who I was." Kyouraku flinched; he'd rather hoped Ukitake hadn't remembered that. Ukitake continued, frustration paramount. "I'm going to be treated differently no matter what _any _of the Academy staff says..."

Kyouraku was suddenly furious; something about a despondent Ukitake annoyed the hell out of him. "Reality check, Jyuushirou: you _are _different. Your lungs don't work and you've got pretty good chance of dying at any moment. You can't just pretend that's not a factor."

He let Ukitake wilt under his fury for a long moment before finishing quietly. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

Pale lips twisted bitterly. "You've just pointed out how little choice I _have_..."

"_Bullshit_. Find a way to keep fighting. Train anyway, and to hell with everyone else."

"Who would be stupid enough to train with someone like me!?" Ukitake yelled, blazing green eyes at war with the hollowness in his tone.

In another irresistible moment of clarity, Kyouraku smiled brilliantly and did what he did best: blundered in over his head.

"You even need to ask? _I'll_ train with you."

A moment of shock. Ukitake gaped at him with what Kyouraku decided was an insultingly dubious expression. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I," stated Kyouraku with a mountain of pomp, "am _never _ridiculous."

Jyuushirou's lip twitched, a wisp of amusement ghosting his eyes. He regarded Shunsui for a long breath.

"Think about what you're offering, Kyouraku-san."

"I'm offering to beat your skinny ass into the next millenium," Shunsui returned, eyes sparkling. "Pretty sweet deal, in my book."

Lip curling higher, Jyuushirou took the bait. "Assuming you _could_. I'm not as helpless as I look."

"Never said you were," Kyouraku bandied back. Another jibe rose in his mind but Shunsui quelled it, disarmed by the espression that stole across Jyuushirou's face. Shunsui shrugged off the unspoken gratefulness. "Don't thank me yet, _baka_; training with me might _actually _kill you."

It was Jyuushirou's turn to shrug. "There are worse ways to die," he returned softly, training his gaze back across the lake.

Kyouraku grunted, but said no more.

Together they watched the sun set over the glimmering water. The sunset breeze sighed through the trees above them, counterpart to the music of evening setting in.

"You realize," Jyuushirou suddenly piped up. "This means you have to go back to school?"

"Yeah," Shunsui confirmed, taking a moment to quell the panic that had risen as the idea settled in. He poked Ukitake in his bony ribs. "Just means you owe me twice over."

"I doubt there's enough sake in our cellars," Jyuushirou fired back with a wry grin. "I'll spend my whole life repaying you."

Kyouraku settle back onto the warm rocks, absorbing their heat as the sun dipped lower. "Well, make it a long life then, and we'll be even."

A long pause. This time Jyuushirou's voice was softer than necessary. "You know I can't promise that."

"Don't tell me what I know." Gruff, Shunsui lept to his feet and gathered reiatsu for shunpo. "Now, if you don't mind, the day is slipping away and I'm still sober. If I don't find a woman and a sake bottle, I'm going to become downright unattractive. Unless you'd care to join me..?" He waited for the predictable shaking of Ukitake's head. "Then I'll be off. If I've got another year of school ahead of me, I've got a lot of debauchery to accomplish beforehand. It's only decent." Without thinking, he ruffled Jyuushirou's white hair.

"Get yourself back together, you're gonna need it."

"For what? I'll mow you down at the first training session." Ukitake's eyes finally carried a the sparkle of anticipation.

"We'll see, pretty boy." Kyouraku thought his face would split open.

In the blink of an eye, before either of them could say another word, Shunsui was gone.


	10. Reality Check

"Hey, _I _was telling this story!" Ukitake protested loudly.

Shunsui patted his knee dismissively. "The intrusion was necessary, my dear Jyuushirou. At times you can get a little-"

"Booooooooring!"

Everyone in the room started at the interruption, quite a feat considering most of them were well on their way to a healthy buzz. A dozen pairs of wide eyes flew to the pink-haired figure standing in the middle of the room, stamping a tiny foot and pouting.

"Yachiru-san!" gasped Kione, looking fit to apoplexy. "You don't just say things like that-!"

"But this _is _boring! Talk talk talk talk, BORING talk." Tiny fists balled on non-existent hips. Kusajishi thrust out a bottom lip. "This was supposed to be a FUN party!"

"It IS fun - these stories are _ancient_!" Kiyone fired back. Someone snickered. Affront instantly melted into horror as Kiyone turned to her beloved leader, beet-red. "Oooh, Taicho – I didn't mean to you say _you're _ancient-!"

"Actually, that's kind of exactly what you said," chimed in Rukia, who was a little tipsy and not above tormenting her squad mate just a bit.

"Well, he _is_," Shunsui confirmed, shifting expertly out of the way of Ukitake's poke. "But it's not Ukitake's fault he's so creaky; not everyone can age with such grace as myself, or stay in such peak physical condition..."

Nanao snorted loudly, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like 'cosmetic surgery', but Ukitake rose to defend himself and drowned out Shunsui's splutters of protest.

"_Creaky_? I am still _quite _capable of holding my own, thank you very much." Jyuushirou sniffed.

"Yaaay! _Prove _it!" Yachiru grinned triumphantly, seizing on the chance. "What this party needs is a good _fight_!" Her pink little gaze bounced expectantly from one venerable captain to the other.

A long silence waxed while most of the SWA tried to get a handle on their mortification. Before anyone could do much more than gape, a ripple of amusement reverberated around the room.

"Ahh, it seems we are being called out, my friend! I see little choice: having my superb skills as a raconteur being slighted is bad enough, I cannot sit by and have my physique challenged as well. Especially when I can still kick your ass as easily as breathing." Still chuckling, Kyouraku interlaced his fingers and stretched hands out in front of him, cracking each knuckle. A sharp look at Ukitake, almost hidden under his eager grin, and Shunsui inquired quietly. "What do you say - up for some exercise?"

Jyuushirou's eyebrows furrowed, lost in a moment of deep introspection. He finally took a deep breath, held it, released slowly. Not a single soul in the room mistook it for a sigh; it was a gauging, probing breath, and for a long moment everyone held theirs as well.

Finally, Jyuushirou nodded. "Sure. For a bit, anyway." He pinned the room with a very serious frown. "But only on the condition that it's not a complete exhibition - everyone must watch and _learn _something from this. Sparring is serious business, you know, not just fun and games." He waited until he had a dozen wide-eyed nods of acquiescence before a tiny smile sprang to his lips. Hazel eyes glinted with a smoldering eagerness as he turned to Shunsui. "Where?"

Kyouraku leaped to his feet, looking not the least like he'd cleared half a dozen sake bottles already that night. "Follow me, pretty boy." He grabbed an elbow and fairly dragged Ukitake out of the room. Voluminous robes hid legs like tree trunks; Kyouraku's ground-eating stride saw the two quickly through the crowded sake hut.

Ukitake, finding the walk rather sobering, scrabbled at a strand of reason. "Uh, Shun...why exactly are we doing this?"

"Shut up and go with it." Shunsui, latched on an opportunity to show off, was loath to relinquish it.

Jyuushirou sensed his mood, eyebrows drawing together. "My friend, it's been a long time since we've had something to prove."

"Consider it, then, a chance to let loose," Shunsui returned, eyes roving eagerly as they exited the building. "Or, if you wish to be a stick-in-the-mud, just write this off as an opportunity to dust off our blades with a war looming. What could be more responsible?" With a wink that utterly failed to charm Ukitake, Shunsui drew to a halt, then stood contemplating the square outside the pub. Behind them, with varying degrees of grace, the members of the SWA started winking into place around the perimeter.

Ukitake looked the scene over, a frown playing across his angular features. "It's small."

"It'll do." Kyouraku was already pacing the space like a prowling tiger. "Shunpo?"

"Of course not; they wouldn't see a thing," Ukitake returned primly. "Kidou?"

"You know I suck at it." Shunsui stopped in his tracks, considering. Caressing the hilts of Katen Koytetsu, he suddenly bared his canines. "Shikai."

That raised Ukitake's dark eyebrows. "Are you trying to knock out half the souls in the district?"

Shunsui shrugged, his grin not sliding a hair. "Nanao will shield us."

Ukitake's eyes darted to Ise, flitting into view on the sidelines. "Can she-?"

"She can handle it." With that, Kyouraku drew his swords, his posture anticipatory. Reiatsu sheeted off his bared blades in scintillating waves.

Ukitake sighed, drawing Sogyou no Kotawari. "Aren't you being a tad ostentatious?"

Another shrug, Shunsui's infectious grin glinting in the moonlight. "They want a show, don't they?"

"More like, _you _do." Ukitake grimaced, wondering how he always ended up doing things Shunsui's way, even as he reveled in the feeling of Sogyou no Kotowari unsheathed. The twinned blades fairly thrummed with eagerness to draw apart. Resisting their immense pull, concentration settled like a glacier across Jyuushirou's face. Another quick sweep of his current physical state had him muttering quietly.

"Ten minutes. No more." Pivoting on the balls of his feet, Ukitake dropped into formation and braced his katana, drawing it back along his hip, point forward. Rarely-tapped strength surged down through his shoulders, across his back, heightening every sense to a razor-edge. Breathing evenly, he waited.

Across the way, Kyouraku also balanced himself, swords up and crossed at eye level, right hand holding rock steady next to his ear, left blade poised vertically between deep brown eyes. He spoke over his shoulder causally, eyes locked on his opponent.

"Ten minutes only, Nanao-chan. We tend to lose time, so keep track for us, ok?"

Looking far more daunted at the prospect of having to _halt _a captain-level spar than contain it, Nanao's face lost color and she gulped audibly. "Hai, Taicho," she barked, in a manner that would make any drill sergeant proud.

Shunsui smiled. Paces away, Ukitake's lips curled up in reply. Together, they inhaled.

As one, Ukitake and Kyouraku released their swords.

_"Namie Kotogotoku Wa Ga Tate To Nare; Ikazuchi Kotogotoku Wa Ga Yaiba To Nare!" _

_"Hana Kaze Midarete Kashin; Haki Tenpuu Midarete Tenma Warau!"_

The kidou shield went up just in time. Despite the precaution, the surge of reiatsu that tidal-waved across the square nearly bowled over the shinigami audience; even Soi Fon grunted and had to take a step back. A hurricane of spirit power - white and gray, crimson and rose, streaked with smoke and lighting - swirled around the square for a long moment, swirling faster and faster until it suddenly burst outward in a sonic-boom and dissipated.

In the center of the square, lit by crackling reiatsu and the glowing kidou shield straining to contain it, stood two of the most powerful captains in the Soul Society in First Release. The curved blades of Katen Kyoukotsu gleamed in the shimmering light, its edges flashing silver while the black flats seemed to suck in all the light around them. In reply, streaks of silver lightening licked up and down Sougyo no Kotowari's twin, splintered blades. The metal plates along the connecting crimson chain jingled quietly as they quivered in anticipation.

For a short eternity, they faced each other, still as statues.

Absurdly, Kotetsu Isane's mind pounced on a memory; she had once gone to the real world with her captain, during which time Unohana-taicho had taken her to see a stage performance. Isane had never seen any dance other than the formal ceremonies of Sereitei, and she was instantly taken by the form called ballet. Sleek, elegant dancers in form-fitting clothing had danced and flickered, glided and leaped with a sculpted precision and breathtaking speed that was quite unlike anything Isane had seen before. In all her two hundred years, Isane had not seen coordinated, calculated movement that was so heartrendingly beautiful.

Until tonight.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, Ukitake and Shunsui moved.

You could have heard a pin drop. Only the quiet swoop of fabric and blade, the occasional grunt or shout of kiai, punctuated the scene that unfolded before the assembled SWA. Wide-eyed, they beheld a sight rarely glimpsed in Soul Society.

At first they were just a blur of motion, four blades dancing like lightening in a quicksilver, no-nonsense attack. Kyouraku gave ground first, sliding backwards for a few heartbeats until his own parry shifted effortlessly into riposte. Subliminal screaming raised the hair on the backs of necks as Ukitake stood his ground, wrists flickering in perfect timing to meet Shunsui's blades. His expression hardened; the next few heartbeats were downright lethal as two of the strongest zanpaktou in the spirit world ground blade to blade and refused to give quarter.

Then, impossibly, a booming laugh rippled out, although which of the men issued it was impossible to tell. Leaping free, Ukitake swooped over Kyouraku's head with a downswing. Kyouraku met it almost contemptuously, his own smile splitting his face open as he pivoted and danced after his opponent.

From that point on...they _played_. It was the only way to describe such delighted, lethal, intricate movement. No matter where Ukitake's blades went, Kyouraku's were there to meet them, and was returned in measure. Ukitake moved like a summer breeze, wending through simple forms with a quick and effortless grace that made any ballerina look like a clumsy toddler with clubbed feet. Kyouraku's forms, while performed in a wildly exaggerated manner, were executed with such speed as to be nearly impossible to follow. Isane couldn't speak for anyone else, but she knew that for those few moments she drew nary a breath, so enraptured was she by the sight of two consummate warriors battling with such precise, deadly elegance...

It was so mesmerizing, that Kotetsu hardly noticed that an unmistakable presence had joined them until its all-too-familiar reiatsu finally penetrated her awareness.

Unohana stood barely a handspan away; she said nothing, eyes shining brilliantly as she watched the swordplay before her.

Isane instinctively dropped, knees cracking against the hard ground. "Taicho!"

In the same instant, Shunsui and Ukitake ground to a halt. For all the world, the took on the demeanor of children whose hands had been caught in a cookie jar.

"Hey, Restu," Ukitake chirped, cheeks pinking.

Shunsui chimed in a second later. "What brings your shining face to such a lowly quarter?" Demur though he might, Kyouraku's grin was decidedly sheepish.

"I couldn't sleep. Nor could most of the region, I would imagine," Unohana replied calmly, enormous indigo eyes sparking. "Having a bit of fun?"

"Sort of," Ukitake replied, his own eyes glinting even as he dipped his sharp chin in the slightest of nods. "We were just...stretching."

"Gotta stay limber," Shunsui backed him up, incorrigible grin flashing.

A rare chuckle from Unohana as her calming demeanor laid a balm across the square. Perspicacious eyes honed in on Ukitake. "Just as long as you are not pushing your limits."

"Arrancar will hardly express such concern; therefore your concern is appreciated but irrelevant." Jyuushirou's hazel eyes glinted.

Instead of taking offense, Retsu dipped her head slightly in acknowledgment. "One must get to the field of battle first, then concern themselves with dreams of valor."

A sudden chuckle; Shunsui dipped his straw hat in appreciation. "Well met, _senpai_." Still, he held his place, voice crooning across the square. "Sorry for waking you up."

Retsu's smile deepened. The moonlight glinted off her blue-black hair. "Half of Sereitei would be hard-pressed to ignore such a clash of reiatsu. If subtly was your aim, you might have been better off shielded behind squad walls." Somehow the mere statement groaned under the weight of blatant suggestion.

Ukitake's blush deepened. "Good point," he replied, running a hand through long white strands of hair and chuckling deprecatingly. "Maybe we should take this elsewhere..."

"Ehhh, why not?" Shunsui finally capitulated. "I think I have a sake bottle or two tucked away at Eight..."

"No doubt," Unohana confirmed, her demeanor the most pleasant buzz-kill imaginable. "Isane, don't you have some patients to attend to?" She smiled quietly. The hair on the back of Shunsui's neck stood on end.

"Of course, Taicho," Kotetsu spluttered, bowing deep into the cobblestones before vanishing in a wink of shunpo. Unohana turned her gaze on Kurotsuchi Nemu.

The demur lieutenant didn't blanch, but bowed just about as quickly as one could expect. "If you'll excuse me, Taicho...?" The genetically engineered shinigami waited for Retsu's barely-perceptible nod before winking away herself.

"But this was just starting to get _fun-!" _Yachiru started to holler, her mouth quickly stoppered by Kiyone.

Hand clamped firmly over her SWA leader's lips, Kotetsu blushed a wildfire. "Uh...if you'll excuse us, taichos?" She barely waited for a single nod, much less three, before vanishing in a flash of kidou.

Soi Fon dusted off her trousers, ferociously sublimating a slightly daunted expression. "I have reports to process," she announced, vanishing with a higher level of execution and notable lack of apology. It was almost enough to make Ukitake smile...

But then he met Unohana's gaze and blushed instead. Ignoring Shunsui's blustery protests over the party thinning out so quickly, Ukitake sealed and sheathed his zanpaktou in one smooth motion, padding over to his remaining fellow captain. She was wearing an expression he knew all too well. He hurried to quietly assure her. "I'm fine, really. Well, I may have had a sip too many of sake," he added, chuckling breathily, "but truthfully, I think I needed a little exercise. It was...refreshing."

Unohana's smile broadened; a barely-perceptible ripple of reiatsu washed through him, only noticible because he was so used to her gentle probing. "I wouldn't dream of questioning your judgment, Jyuushirou-san," she murmured, relieved and smiling disarmingly. "Old habits just die hard."

Jyuushirou was grinning back at her when Shunsui blundered in, throwing an arm and the bulk of his weight across Ukitake's shoulders. "Ok, it's decided - party's moving to Eighth. You coming along, honorable senpai?"

"Not to join you party, Shunsui-san. I have some sleep to catch up on," she replied musically, giving Kyouraku an affectionate wink. "However, considering the state you're in, I would be terribly remiss if I did not escort you back to your squadhold." Decision made, she turn and glided away ahead of them, tossing one final murmur over her shoulder. "It would hardly do to let two captains get arrested on accounts of public drunkenness with a war looming…"

Shunsui sighed the sigh of a jilted lover. "That woman will be the end of me." He snuggled closer to Ukitake, reeking of sake. "Hold me."

"No way," Ukitake shot back, dodging away and fretting. "You know how fast she walks. We'd better get moving…"

"Ah, too true." A note of concern found its way into Shunsui's bluster, and he leaned his massive frame onto his fukutaicho instead. "After all, as the undeniable Retsu said, I am quite compromised by drink, and I'm not wearing any underwear besides; gods know what kind of trouble I could get into."

Ise gagged and tried to shove her captain away, an entirely ineffective gesture. Rukia, tipsy enough to be quite oblivious at this point, just giggled and fell to as they stumbled away from the courtyard. Nanao glared at her, exasperated. "You don't have to follow us."

"Oh yes I do," Rukia chirped back, slurring just the tiniest bit. "I'm honor-guarding my taicho. Besides, he was about to tell another story," she hiccuped, violet eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Oh hell no," Shunsui jumped in, articulation notably more sober than his ambulation. "This is _my _story to tell..."


	11. Training, Part 1

Fall had just sunk its cool teeth into the passing of seasons, autumnal breezes wending their way into the languid heat of summer, when Kyouraku found himself keeping his erstwhile promise. It had been a strange couple of months for him; Shunsui had followed through with his plan to effectively drink away every single moment of freedom remaining to him over the summer . In truth, he could hardly remember the last several weeks. There had been a scolding or two from his clan, more lovely bed partners than he could count and at least _one _incarceration...

But even the last paled in comparison to walking through the Academy gates again, annoyed as hell and wondering why in the names of all the gods he was doing this. A mood which rankled, and could only be dispelled by dumping it upon any target available. Fortunately, he'd had the foresight to provide himself with just such an opportunity to properly vent.

"_Oiy_!"

With a calculated swagger, Kyouraku Shunsui strode onto an expansive, shabby training square; the cobblestones beneath his sandals jutted unevenly, weeds pressing up between the stones in a manner that would hardly have been tolerated by the exacting senseis of the Academy. Their removal would have been a choice method of punishment for any student that incurred the slightest infraction during the new school year.

Fortunately, this particular training square stood on the fringes of the Academy grounds; long forgotten, all but swallowed by the dense woods that pressed around, it was rarely frequented by the regular students and entirely ignored by instructors. This fact Shunsui had discovered the year past when it turned out to be an ideal location for illegal transactions and more than one pleasurable tumble in the grass. He was pretty sure he could bury a dead body here no one would ever find it, which just might be the sum total of this day's exercise.

Across the weedy square, a pale figure lept to his feet, a look of relief stealing across his angular features.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," Ukitake blurted, hazel eyes cautiously delighted.

"Neither was I," Kyouraku groused, scratching a surreptitious itch. He glanced at the angle of the sun and decided he was entirely too sober for this time of morning.

Overtly eager, Jyuushirou shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I mean, I wasn't sure you'd even get on the grounds. I heard something about an altercation at the gates..."

"_Bah_," Shunsui waved a hand and swallowed the bile that rose at the back of his throat. In a stunning development, he had almost been denied entrance. Perversely, that had been the clincher; _no one_ told a Kyouraku what they could and could not do, what they could not have. That was bred bone-deep, blood running thicker than sake. "I knocked some heads together until people saw reason."

Ukitake's expression glinted with amusement. "So I heard."

Kyouraku grunted; it wasn't like he _wanted _to think about the last few hours in Yamamoto's office, entreating and threatening by turns until the old fart had finally agreed to let him attend another year. "Don't think I did any of it for _you_, kid. It was the principle of the matter."

"No doubt."

Those stupid, huge eyes continued to sparkle eagerly, so Kyouraku flicked his gaze to the far end of the field. "What's _she _doing here?"

Ukitake took a defensive step between his friend and the dark-haired beauty sitting on the sidelines. "I asked her to stop by." The look in Jyuushirou's eyes quelled whatever jibe might have danced across Shunsui's tongue. "I thought about what you said, and you're right. I can't pretend I'm like everyone else." Pale cheeks reddened, but it didn't lessen the ferocity in Ukitake's voice. "It's just a precaution. So that neither of us feels the need to hold back."

With a shrug, Shunsui extricated himself from the pointed look he couldn't hold. "Whatever; I wasn't going to hold back anyway."

Ukitake backed off affably. "Fair enough. Then, consider Retsu's presence my way of ensuring I live long enough to pay off my debt."

Kyouraku met this rejoinder with a dip of his head, more respectful than he'd intended. Taking some deep, even breaths to center himself he shifted his balance to the balls of his feet, shoulders dropped and loose.

Shunsui eyeballed Ukitake critically. "Ok, show me what you got."

Ukitake's eyebrows twisted, uncomprehending. Shunsui very nearly rolled his eyes. "You've had _some_ martial arts training, I assume?"

"Naturally," Juushirou returned, looking rather affronted. "Oratu-sensei came every summer and taught us forms. When I could, I joined in."

"So, you know forms." It was better than nothing, Shunsui decided. "Show me."

Ukitake glanced at a pair of asauchi balanced nearby. "We're not going to-?"

"No," Shunsui replied with elaborate patience. "We aren't gonna play with sharp and pointy things until we've covered the basics." Another covetous glance had Kyouraku growling. "Do you want my help or not?"

Jyuushirou's fists clenched, released. "Of course I do."

"Good," Shunsui snarled. "Then we do things my way. Hand-to-hand combat, at least until I get a sense of your skill level. Now, these forms you learned - _show _me."

Ukitake held his color but took a deep breath, steeling himself. After a moment a sort of intensity settled over him; Shunsui watched and wasn't displeased. The kid could focus, at least, although his concentration had an odd quality Kyouraku couldn't quite quantify. Finally, with the studied movements of a trained dancer, Jyuushirou started to wend through forms, one after another. Each was graceful, textbook, executed flawlessly.

Kyouraku watched the impressive display, impassive. The sun arched overhead while Ukitake showed off his full extent of martial training. An hour passed and neither said a word.

Finally, Ukitake folded into his final pose and took a slow breath. Expectantly, his gaze turned toward Shunsui.

Without any preamble whatsoever, Kyouraku slapped Jyuushirou across the face as hard as he could.

"Hey - OW!" Ukitke's hand flew to his cheek, tranquility shattered. "What was that for!?"

Kyouraku just shook his head and scowled. "No instincts whatsoever. You didn't even _try _to block. Have you _ever _been in a brawl? Wait, let me guess - you've got all sisters?" His hand shot out again.

This time Jyuushirou shied back, just barely missing the strike. "Three," he admitted, his gaze searing. "I've got five brothers, too."

A lightning-quick jab to ribs sent Ukitake gasping and doubling over. Kyouraku stalked a half-circle around the pained figure, his lips twisting. "Pathetic. You may have brothers, but you've never wrestled with them."

Jyuushirou coughed sharply before he pulled himself together. "No," he rasped, clutching his ribcage. "Not for years. Not since we were kids." Dragging his eyes upwards, he locked gazes with Kyouraku and glared pure murder.

For a split-second, Shunsui toyed with sympathy. Just in time, he recalled himself, his features settling into granite. "Since you got sick?"

A long moment, while Ukitake found his lungs. Controlled, angry. "Yes."

"I don't give a shit about that. Hear me now, Juushirou," He stalked forward towards his opponent, his friend. "I will kill you before I pity you." He waited out Ukitake's reaction. It took a while. Finally, Kyouraku quirked an eyebrow. "How does that make you feel?"

A strong, deep breath. Another. The air stood still. "Relieved," Jyuushirou finally admitted, his lips daring to curve upwards.

Shunsui took that exact moment to pounce; bare-handed, he landed half a dozen blows before Ukitake found his feet. The next few moments were brutal, as the thud and slap of fist on flesh, the agonized grunts of landing blows, echoed around the square. Again, a flash of doubt seared Kyouraku's judgment as he mercilessly pummeled a skinny kid whose pale frame had never before taken a hit...

Until a form came out of nowhere, blocking Shunsui's vicious strike to a kidney. The energy in the air crackled as Ukitake panted with unfamiliar exertion, eyes blazing.

Shunsui very nearly grinned. "Ah, so you _do _have some fight in you?" Shifting to the right, he let Ukitake be taken by the feint and grabbed a fistful of ivory bangs. He pulled with all his might.

Breath sucked through Jyuushirou's teeth as he strained upwards against the pain, to his very tip-toes. Again, Shunsui squelched pity. "Come _on_," he hissed, right in a white ear. "You can do _better _than this."

Something exploded against his hip; Kyoruaku found himself thrown backward halfway across the square, slamming into the cobblestones with jarring force. From long experience, he rebounded quickly; blinking his eyes against the pain, Shunsui found his footing and whipped around.

Ukitake stood a dozen paces away, eager lightning crackling halfway up a forearm. Instead of raging fury, though, the kid stood with smoldering control and regarded Kyouraku with deepset eyes. Shunsui felt out, _sensed_, and found his breath catching; the amount of reiatsu pulsing off of Ukitake was stunning, considering his youth and physical weakness. A long pause waxed and waned, punctuated by the sizzle of energy and pants of agony.

The air shifted when Jyuushirou finally spoke; something raised the hairs on the back of Kyouraku's neck.

"You can do better than this, too."

"You'd better believe it." Shunsui felt a familiar bloodlust rise in his veins; few things fired him up faster than a worthy opponent. Kyouraku bared his canines, wishing only that he was considerably drunker to make this moment more enduring; he had the odd feeling he was about to get as good as he gave.

"Ukitake Jyuushirou, show me what you _really _got."

* * *

"You're a perfect pair of idiots."

Shunsui blinked groggily and forced his vision to focus. Enormous, midnight eyes razed him. "Ah, moon-beam...I didn't know you cared..."

"'Care' is hardly the word," Retsu muttered, smothering him with another wave of reiatsu. Kyouraku grit his teeth against the feeling of his bits and pieces knitting together, forced to heal in seconds where it should have taken weeks. "Professional courtesy, maybe."

Shunsui almost grinned; she sounded very nearly peeved.

"Either way, it's appreciated." Ukitake's thread-thin voice wisped across the darkening square. "Thank you, Retsu..."

"Oh hush." An edge cut Unohana's tone, one that Shunsui had never heard before. It was oddly unsettling. The reiatsu invading their torn muscles intensified, forestalling further speech. Retsu fell under no such constraint. "I don't know how you can ask me to be a part of this."

Ukitake instantly flushed; stupid kid wore his emotions on his sleeve for everyone to see. Mortification wended its way through the obvious pain he was experiencing. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I can ask someone else..."

At that, Retsu softened. "Now you insult me," she chided softly. "You intend to find someone with superior abilities?"

"Not possible," Shunsui piped up; his latent talent for smoothing out ruffled female feathers nearly equaled his tendency to ruffle them in the first place. "I cherish every moment in your presence, Moon-beam. Your very touch give me shivers..." He cut off with a grunt as an unnecessarily intense pulse of healing sent a wave of agony through him. Every muscle screamed together simultaneously.

Abruptly the sensation vanished. "There, good as new. For what that's worth." A ghost of a smile on her lips, Retsu turned all her attention onto the kid.

Shunsui sat up slowly, took a deep breath and rotated his shoulders, feeling out his newly-renovated spirit body. Truth be told, he felt fantastic; even his lingering hangover from the night before was gone. Satisfied, he eyeballed his sparring partner. "He gonna make it?"

Retsu actually rolled her eyes. "Why don't you ask _him_?"

Ukitake chuckled, throwing Unohana a tiny smile of gratitude. "Sure thing. Fit as a fiddle." Suddenly serious, he reached up and caught a delicate wrist in his own slender fingers. "Retsu-san, if this is too much to ask of you..."

Unohana just shook her head, the minutest of gestures. "The only thing intolerable is death. All else can be mended," was her soft, intricate reply as she took a breath and finally settled back on her heels. Her reiatsu flared once and then it, too calmed. "There, now. How do you feel?"

Ukitake sat up gingerly. "Eh...better than I have in weeks." He issued a shy smile at their upperclassmen.

"Well, don't push it. Rest well tonight and you'll be fine by morning." Retsu rose gracefully to her feet.

"Don't worry, I'm going to sleep like a rock," Jyuushirou insisted with feeling, before stealing a mischievous glance at Kyouraku. "Gotta rest up for the next session."

Retsu turned. "Which won't be until-"

"Tomorrow," Shunsui blundered in gruffly. "Same time."

Retsu opened her mouth to protest, but Ukitake's eyes just gleamed. "Great!"

Unohana sighed, the least lady-like gesture Shunsui had seen her betray. Her expression was daunting. "Isn't that a _bit _much?"

Kyouraku felt a familiar edge creep into his voice, one that usually emerged when he was either sober, annoyed or both. "Yeah, no sure - we can back it down. Just send out a memo to every Hollow and make sure they know to take it easy on this guy." He thumbed a nonchalant gesture in Ukitake's direction as he turned to amble off in as offensive a manner possible. "I'm sure they'll totally understand to lay off the sick kid."

He barely got two paces.

"_I'll be here_." Quick as lightning, laced with cold fury; Ukitake's tone quickly shifted into supplication. "Retsu..."

"Then I'll be here too." Something in Unohana's voice made Shunsui walk just a teeny bit faster and wish that much more for a bottle of sake.

"It's a date then," he tossed over his shoulder, hoofing it out of there. He toyed with the idea of dropping some comment on threesomes, but found his tongue rather unwilling to leave the roof of his mouth. _Quit while you're ahead, Kyouraku_.

* * *

Thereafter, Shunsui made a point of grumbling and groaning over how long it took Ukitake to gain enough battle sense for so much as a barroom brawl, but truth be told the kid came around faster than he'd expected. For someone who would go out of his way to avoid stepping on a bug, Jyuushirou sure learned a decent right hook quickly enough. Within a few agonizing weeks - agonizing for Shunsui that was, since Retsu decided to make her point by retaining all of her healing duties for the kid and letting Shunsui heal on his own; annoying as hell, but it did slow them down to training every _other _day - Jyuushirou was holding out at least long enough to stand his ground against Shunsui in a fistfight. Once or twice, Kyouraku had even gotten winded.

The day Shunsui actually broke a sweat, he figured the kid was just about ready for some _real_ sparring.

But the real moment of truth came when Shunsui arrived late one evening to the training grounds, not unlike he was wont to do. This time he was in a rather foul mood indeed, entirely too sober and reeling from the latest bender than had been necessary to dull the ache in muscles Unohana refused to heal for him. Taking a deep breath, Kyouraku issued his usual salutation.

"Oi-!"

Pain blossomed in his lower kidney, forcing all the breath out of Kyouraku in a woosh. Instantly on guard, he whipped around with an uppercut, hit only air. Something smashed into his left shoulder with shattering force.

_Shit. _Not _good_. So the kid had finally learned the advantage of a surprise attack. _Well played..._ Letting raw instinct take over, Kyouraku got serious and feinted right, twisted left then shunpo'd halfway across the field in one step, reaching out with all his senses and half his reiatsu besides. _There_. The kid was a pace and a half away, closing far too quickly. At least the move had bought Shunsui time to get his bearings...

A flicker over his should. _Goddamn _the kid was fast! Grunting, Shunsui dropped to his knees just in time to block a direct blow to his cranium. Hungover as he was, it was the correct move even if Jyuushirou recovered faster than the little bastard should have and retaliated by nearly kicking in Kyouraku's ribs.

Abruptly, Shunsui got pissed off. He caught Ukitake's foot as it recoiled off his torso, twisted, yanked upwards with all his might. He was rewarded with a grunt as Jyuushirou flipped sideways and landed hard on the cobblestones. A month ago that would have taken the wind out of the kid's sails.

Not anymore; with hardly second spared to regroup, Ukitake righted himself and gathered reiatsu.

_Surprise attack, and now taking advantage of an opponent's weakness? Yep, it's about time for some _real _action. _ Muscles bunching, Shunsui gathered his own reiatsu and threw himself out of the way, adding a parlor trick; by augmenting a purely physical jump with shunpo applied at just the right moment, he hurtled twice as far as Ukitake expected. Shunsui watched as paces away, a fireball threw sparks and bits of cobblestone into the air where Shunsui _should_ have landed...

Kyouraku hit the ground knowing he had but a split second of advantage. Letting the kidou explosion behind him mask his own spirit power, Shunsui flitted himself in the direction of the small arsenal they usually had set up at the edge of the clearing. A hand shot out as he whipped by, full-tilt; Shunsui's practiced fingers found what he needed just as he dodged another fireball. With a feral grin, he ripped his weapon of choice free of scabbard and turned on Ukitake, dropping into formation.

The hiss of baring steel rang across the courtyard, stopping Ukitake in his tracks. Still on guard, he eyeballed Shunsui's curved blade. "I take it we're done with hand-to-hand combat?"

Kyouraku snapped a mirthless grin. "_You_ upped the stakes. Where the hell did you learn to be such an unfair fighter?"

Ukitake grinned back with wicked delight. "Had a decent teacher."

"Decent?!" Shunsui vanished, reappeared, slicing viciously from his right shoulder. He cut air, cloth. Nothing more. "No one has _ever_ called me decent." He launched himself at Ukitake again.

Again, the kid was gone. "Hey, don't I get a blade too?"

"If you can get to it," Shunsui shot back, holding his position between Ukitake and the other asauchi perched at the sidelines.

Jyuushirou didn't look nearly as daunted as Shunsui'd hoped he would be. He simply frowned for a second, chanted under his breath and tossed a web of kidou straight at Kyouraku's head.

_Fuck_. Kyouraku grit his teeth as the binding demon magic sailed toward him. He could avoid it, but would lose position and Ukitake would have his blade. _On the other_ _hand_...Shunsui weighed his options; he was a Kyouraku and loathe to display a trick up his sleeve...

_Ah, well. Nothin' for it_. Kyouraku planted his feet, chanted a few words of his own as the kidou closed in...and at just the right moment, dumped enough spirit power into his sword to slice through the web like a hot knife through butter.

It exploded with the dissipating energy expected of a level 20 spell. Silence fell across the courtyard, drifting down with the remnants of dissipating spirit particles.

Ukitake's eyes couldn't have gotten any bigger. "How did you...? I've never seen you execute a battle spell higher than single digits, how did you _break_-?"

"_Offensive _kidou, my dear Jyuushirou. _Offensive kidou_ isn't exactly my forte," Kyouraku muttered back, watching Ukitake like he was a live adder. "Never said I couldn't defend myself."

Ukitake smiled faintly, watching his opponent just as carefully even as his tone turned blithely curious. "How high can you break?"

The corners of chocolate eyes crinkled. "Why don't you find out?"

The next few hours were hellacious. Jyuushirou pulled out every demon magic attack in his arsenal, which was as stupid as it was impressive, not to mention annoying as hell. Stupid, because now Shunsui knew the kid was proficient up into the 50's - a sheer abomination in someone so young and frail - at which point impressive kicked in.

Annoying as hell, because now Jyuushirou knew just how good Shunsui was at deflecting kidou, at least as high as Ukitake himself could dish out.

"How is it," Jyuushirou gasped at one point. "That you can't cast a Hadou 4, but you deflected my Haien like it wasn't even there?"

Actually, that Haien had cost him most of the feeling in his right arm, and it still wasn't his best work; Shunsui had downed oceans of sake to forget the one time he'd stumbled across a level 58 Tenran. "Ahh, to each his own, I guess..."

Something grabbed Kyouraku by the shoulder and slammed him down to the cobblestones. Shunsui tried to leap up and found himself pinned down like a building was on top of him. The familiar glow of kidou across his shoulder brought a curse to Kyouraku's lips; he'd allowed himself to be tricked into a moment of conversation, and now he was pinned by a lowly Hainawa. The breath and a half it took Kyouraku to slice through the tendril of kidou was all Ukitake needed; by the time Shunsui found his feet again he was facing an armed opponent.

_Ah, well, it's about damn time._ At least Ukitake had only taken one blade. Shunsui hollared a battle cry and lept into the fray without another thought.

It was almost a mistake. As graceful as the kid might be with static martial forms, he was another order of magnitude with steel in hand. It was all Shunsui could do to keep his feet under him, his head on his shoulders and his eyes from falling out of his head at the raw talent he suddenly found himself facing.

Ukitake had been born to wield a blade, that much was obvious.

Good thing Kyouraku was, too; he found the split-second he needed to find his groove, and then the swordplay got _real _interesting. Hours slipped by as steel met steel; it didn't take long to see they were pretty evenly matched. Of course, that didn't include a trick or two Shunsui had up his sleeve...

Which was good, because so did Ukitake. When Shunsui least expected it, an orb of lighting suddenly appeared - without incantation, curse that kid - and sailed towards his left shoulder right as Kyouraku was mid-swing with a right uppercut.

Instinct took over. In one smooth motion, Kyouraku switched hands and sliced the orb clean in half with an effortless backswing.

From the corner of his vision, he saw Ukitake's eyes widen in shock. _That's it_. That was his opening. Still gripping his katana left-handed, Shunsui let battle-fever take over as he swung with all his might towards Jyuushirou's exposed right side...

Somehow Ukitake got his blade around in time. The square rang with the scream of clashing blades; Jyuushirou slipped once, then found his ground and held it. Eyes still wide, but shedding the element of shock, Jyuuriou's gaze smoldered with evaluation. "You're strongest _left_-handed?" he gasped.

"No," Shunsui countered, throwing the kid out of hold and leaping out of the way of the shakkaho that barely missed him. "I'm strong_er_ left-handed." In the blink of an eye, he'd shunpo'd past the stack of weapons, right fingers finding purchase, snagging a second blade free. Half a dozen more flash steps saw him clear of a veritable hailstorm of kidou attacks, until he found open ground.

Laughing like a wild jackal, Shunsui planted his feet and dropped into form. "I'm strong_est both_-handed." He crossed blades, and waited.

Across the square, Ukitake stared him down, taking in the low posture, the matching blades crossed at eye level. It didn't take a genius to see both hands held rock-steady, equally strong. "You're ambidextrous?"

Shunsui just smiled.

"Interesting." Ukitake coughed once, hard, and followed that up with a staccato of rasps. Finally, he dropped his shoulders along with his guard. "I think I'm done for the day."

"No, you're not," Shunsui barked, pulse fast and even. "We're just getting started." Across the square, the stir of quietly contained reiatsu; Kyouraku forestalled her. "Stay out of this, Moon-beam. You've been on raids, you know how often you fight exhausted. He's got more left in him." His tone grated with something merciless, something ugly. Something _necessary_. Unohana's energy flared in protest, but settled into an uneasy simmer.

Ukitake felt the change too, and slid carefully into defensive posture. Once there, though, he paused. He regarded Shunsui for a long time, trying to figure out why things had suddenly changed. After a moment, Ukitake's quiet voice drifted across the square. "Shunsui, why are you doing this?"

Kyouraku snarled. "You wanted to learn how to fight."

"You've already taught me that. This is..." A vague gesture. Ukitake swallowed, his eyes deep pools of something Kyouraku could barely take. "This is more."

Shunsui's lips twisted; he tried to make it contempt. "More than me kicking the shit out of you?" It sounded hollow, vain. The blood pounded in his ears.

"Why are you fighting like this?" Ukitake countered, grip on pommel tightening at the thunderstorm his words brought to Kyouraku's countenance. "What are you trying to prove?"

Shunsui launched himself, both blades whirling. Ukitake barely fended him off. Feral, Kyouraku darted after him. "Gotta fight for _something_, Ukitake-san," he snarled, attacking again. A flash of kidou set him back long enough for Ukitake to get clear. "Fight for nothing, you might as well be dead already."

That shot told; Ukitake's cheeks flushed deep red, his eyes flashing murder. His counter attack had Shunsui fighting off deadly blows for heartbeats at a time. But within a matter of moments Kyouraku's intensity gained the upper hand, and Ukitake fell back again, faltering. Seconds later Jyuushirou was pinned, Shunsui's blades crossed inches from his throat.

Jyuushirou glared impotently. "What are _you _fighting for?" he choked.

"For the hell of it." Shunsui found it hard to breath, the tone of his voice raising the hairs on his own neck. "What's _your _excuse?"

Ukitake gaped, thrashed, couldn't break free. Gasping, he spat with what vehemence he could muster. "To defend the helpless, to fight evil-"

"_Bullshit_." Shunsui roared, shoving the kid as hard as he could, stalking after him as he scrabbled along the cobblestones. "Have you ever seen evil? Hatred? Have you ever seen the ugliness this universe can dredge up?"

Ukitake found his feet and threw himself at Kyouraku in a half-ass counter attack. Shunsui parried, unconcerned, something ugly seething through his veins. "Have you ever seen something so horrific, it chilled the blood in your veins?"

Whatever seethed through him suddenly manifested in pure, black madness; to the sound of his own thundering heartbeat, Shunsui vanished in shunpo-

And reappeared behind Unohana. A broad hand spanned her neck, yanked her jaw back at a painful angle. The other hand held a blade that quivered a hair's breadth from Retsu's throat.

Shunsui whispered, a dead sound. "_Ever have something you'd die to protect?_"

Too much happened at once.

Something twisted in Jyuushirou's eyes; they glazed over with a ferocity that made the air freeze. He roared, leaped; blurring with speed, his blade sparkled in the sunlight as it flashed toward Kyouraku...

Unohana moved. It was barely a twitch, a slight repositioning, and suddenly she was between the two men, directly in the path of Ukitake's blade.

With a curse, Kyouraku found a grain of sanity, wrenched Retsu aside, twisted his own body around...

A dull, wet thud. Someone gasped, another sucked in breath like it was their last. For an endless moment, time stood still.

Kyouraku blinked, again, a third time. There was fire somewhere in his shoulder, but in his arms only soft warmth. Shaking his head clear, he looked down into the wide, midnight eyes of the slender girl he held, protected, in his embrace.

"Well now, it's about time you ended up in my arms." All he did then was try to smile, and the world crashed back to normal.

Sound, color, sensation returned. Unonaha twisted around, placing both hands on Kyouraku's chest, her reiatsu swelling with her horror. "Kouraku-san...!"

"_Shun_!" Ukitake, eyes equally wide with horror, began to move in a way that started a symphony of agony in Kyouraku's left shoulder.

Unohana's hand shot out, stilling both of them. "Jyuushirou-san, _wait_..."

With infinite slowness, Shunsui's gaze dropped to where Ukitake's blade began at pale hand gripping sweaty pommel, and ended six inches deep in Kyouraku's left pectoral muscle. Both quivered, twitched...and burned like the fires of hell.

"Huh," Shunsui grunted, fresh pain blossoming a wildfire through his brain at the motion. "Well, now _this _is a party...."

Kyouraku stumbled, began to pitch forward, and agony turned into a kindness. Blackness swirled up, intoxicating as sake, and Shunsui dove beneath the surface.

* * *

"...too far."

Kyouraku stifled a groan as consciousness slammed back into him. From long practice he was instantly alert, stilling to stone...which turned out to be a good thing. The pain that tore through him at even the slight motion of breathing was enough to lock his muscles, and the halting of his breath allowed him to catch the hushed conversation going on just outside his room.

"...not far enough. You were right to let them pair up." Unohana, silken tones drifting on the still air like butterfly's wings.

"Of course I was." The last voice Kyouraku would have possibly imagined grumbled back, rough as granite blocks grinding together. "What I want to know is why _you _got involved."

"Yamamoto-san, I was never in any danger." Damn the girl, she sounded almost amused. Shunsui strained his ears to hear more, heart pounding.

"You were in the middle of two untrained bezerkers acting like fools." A quiet rustle that communicated displeasure. "You risked too much."

"You asked me to keep an eye on them, and the chance to observe them so close brought the answers you seek." Retsu's voice sparkled with something electric. "You should have seen them, _sensei_; their swords _sang_!"

A wave of searing reiatsu as the Captain Commander tasted Unohana's words. "Then, their potential..?"

"They'll both wield named zanpaktou by the end of the year, or I'll teach remedial kidou for the next decade."

Kyouraku smirked, found this was one action that didn't cause him ocean of agony. Yamamoto's next whisper turned the expression decidedly sour.

"That is unexpected. The pale one was a certainty, but to have two..."

"Nobles. With bankai potential." Unohana confirmed; their tones matched, somehow. "Their value to this establishment is incalculable." An endless silence stretched, along with Kyouraku's ears.

Finally, almost too soft to hear. "As is yours, Retsu-san. I consider _any _loss unacceptable."

He couldn't take it anymore; with absolute deftness, Kyouraku peeked an eye open the tiniest bit. He was just in time to see an immense shadow hovering for an infinite moment before turning and stalking away. One gnarled hand trailed, before it reached around to wrap around that twisted old the stick old man Yama carried with him everywhere. Another footfall, and he was gone.

"Good to see you're awake." Unohana emerged from the shadow and glided into the room, her eyes shining brilliantly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a Hollow sat on me," Shunsui groused, trying to look as beleaguered as possible. The end result would have put puppy dogs to shame. "I'll never recover; I'm maimed for life....wait, do I have a sexy scar, at least?"

"If I say yes, will you lie still?" returned Retsu, curling her lips up at him. She reached a hand out to hover over the extensive bandages covering half Shunsui's torso. He twitched, waiting for the whiplash of pain, but instead this time there was just a mild spreading of warmth. "You've mended, but I daresay you'll be sore for a while. At least a week's bed rest before you're mobile again; the wound was deep, it could rip open again if you push yourself."

Kyouraku couldn't even muster a protest; it felt like glass shards were littered liberally through out his left lung. Every breath stabbed. "You're welcome," he groused instead, shifting his discomfort into a show of pique. "The hell were you thinking, anyway? Getting in the middle like that. I had the situation _totally _under control."

"I never doubted," Retsu replied, dry enough to put the Sahara to shame. "Next time you wish to use a sentient being as an object lesson, you would do well to ask their permission first."

Something twisted in his chest, forcing Shunsui to a shuddering cough that nearly rendered him insensate. Getting his breath back took all the fight out of him. "Noted," he whispered to the room, unable to lift his heavy lids. "Still doesn't explain why you got _more _in the way."

A warm hand appeared to rest on his forehead. "Let's just say I was averting disaster, and leave it at that." A coolness spread through Shunsui's head, for the briefest of moments. "You may sleep in a moment; there's someone else who wants to make sure you're alright."

Shunsui blinked, found it much easier to focus this time. Not that he needed to look to know who'd be standing in the doorway. "Go jump off a cliff, you little shit."

Ukitake's face twisted with unplumbed depths of guilt. "Kyouraku-san, I can't even to _begin _to apolo-"

"Bah," Kyouraku tried to wave him off, changed his mind mid-twinge and settled for grimacing instead. "I was kidding, for gods sakes. You just _try _apologizing, and I'll put your lights out."

Unmollified, Jyuushirou actually twisted his hands into his robes. "Shunsui, I _stabbed _you."

"Yep," Kyouraku tossed back, as lightly as he could. He made a show of fingering his bandages. "Damn good aim, too. Although we've got to talk about your backswing..."

"This isn't funny!" Jyuushirou wailed.

"You see me laughing?" Kyouraku shot back; his smoldering gaze caught Ukitake's and refused to let go. "This shit happens, Jyuushirou. Let it go."

Ukitake scuffed his sandal on the tatamis. "I put you in a hospital bed," he moaned softly.

"Well then, we're even," Shunsui returned firmly. "Learn not to regret. It's a waste of time."

Ukitake regarded him for a long second before his lips relaxed teeniest bit. "You know so much about regret?"

"More than you ever want to forget." Shunsui clacked his jaw shut a second too late.

Jyuushirou frowned, then turned to say something softly to Unohana. She nodded, then slipped silently out of the room. Ukitake padded closer to the bedside, his expression somber. "You're in pain."

Kyouraku flexed his arm, just the tiniest bit. "Eh, I've had worse..."

"You know what I mean."

Shunsui rolled his head to the side, met eyes he didn't want to, couldn't escape. Still, he hedged. "Oh yeah, being rich and handsome is such a hard life." Jyuushirou didn't take the bait, he just stood there with that too-intense expression. Kyouraku finally turned away with a sigh. "_Jigoku mo sumika._"

A warm hand touched his arm. "Is it really that bad?"

Kyouraku swallowed a too-honest answer and most of his childhood, training his gaze at the ceiling. "There's worse out there. Important thing is to stay alive long enough to-"

"Fight back." Ukitake finished for him; he corner of his lip twitched, although his eyes stayed sad.

Shunsui scowled, suddenly uncomfortable. "If you say so. Get lost, I've got healing to do."

Ukitake finally smiled, a wretched little expression. "Fair enough. Unohana should be back in a minute, if you need anything..."

"Yeah, tell her I need something to knock me the hell out," Shunsui grated; the aching in his chest was rapidly descending into a tooth-jarring throb.

"Ask and you shall receive." Retsu entered the room, as if summoned, balancing a stack of scrolls which she carefully placed on the bedside table.

Kyouraku scowled. "I was thinking more along the lines of _drugs_."

"You need rest, nothing more."

Shunsui grimaced, then regarded the scrolls with interest. "What are those - naughty romances? Buttercup, you shouldn't have..!"

"They're school texts," Retsu scolded, lips twitching.

"Ah. Studying. Yep, that'll knock me out."

Suddenly, Ukitake lit up like a Christmas tree. "I could help you!"

Shunsui's floundered in a sea of confusion. "With what?"

"Studying!" Ukitake padded eagerly over to the side of his bed. "It wouldn't be any trouble at all, and it's the least I could do considering you're training with me...and you're going to be stuck in bed for while anyway! Quit glaring at me, Shunsui, we both know if you don't start passing tests you're going to flunk out. We could start with basic kidou theory and that Soul Societ history assignment I know you haven't turned in yet..."

"Uh, yeah...I really don't think....see-" Shunsui's jaw snapped shut around protestations that he couldn't give less of a shit about his grades and didn't plan on actually graduating anyway. The kid looked happier than he'd been all night, every trace of pathetic guilt washed away.

The fact that Retsu was quietly leveling Shunsui with her glare had nothing to do with his captiulation. At _all_. He just couldn't crush the kid's hopes, was all.... "Yeah, sure. Why not. It'll help pass the time, anyway." Shunsui hoped his tone sounded at least halfway genuine.

"Great! We'll start tomorrow?" At Unohana's nod, Ukitake gave one last brilliant, grateful grin and all but floated out of the room.

"Not a _word _out of you, miss." Shunsui growled, his short-lived burst of energy utterly spent. He sank back into the pillows as Unohana rested a cool hand against his forehead. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned that. I'm starting to think you're more trouble than you let on."

Retsu murmured a soft and cryptic reply, but something in her touch spread an ocean of soothing weightlessness through him, and Shunsui fell into a dreamless sleep before he could quite catch her words.


	12. Summer Storm

"And so, at the turn of that century, exalted sensei Okuni-Nushi returned from his self-imposed exile of deep meditation and personal experimentation in the realm of magic, bearing great claims of earth-shattering discoveries into the nature of kidou and reiatsu..."

Ukitake's voice slipped into the warm air and joined the gentle drone of honeybees and cicadas as they floated languidly on fragrant afternoon breezes. Warm weather had come early this year, so even though spring had barely intruded upon the cold winter months, Jyuushirou had found it nearly impossible to study indoors, a feeling heartily seconded by his recently-recovered study partner. Refusing to succumb to the languid honey of the afternoon sun, Ukitake took a deep breath and pressed himself to continue reading aloud from the scroll he had laid out on the grass before him, each corner held in place by smooth a river rock.

"While none of Okuno-Nushi-dono's contemporaries dared to contend his theories, the truth was that none existed who had the strength to validate or deny them, and so while such principles form the basis of all kidou theory and training, they remain to this day largely proven..."

A ladybug landed on his nose. Suppressing a smile, Ukitake gently brushed the intruder away and flicked his eyes in the direction of his supine companion. Kyouraku Shunsui fell under no personal demands to remain focused on schoolwork and had been a trial all afternoon; Jyuushirou could hardly tell from one second to the next if Shunsui was even conscious. Every once in a while a delicate snore would alert him to the truth, but so would an unexpected twitch or shifting of position to a more comfortable one when Ukitake was certain the man was dead to the world, so in the end it was hard to tell if he was speaking to a captive audience or a sleeping behemoth.

So, from good practice at this point, Ukitake simply focused on his readings and left Shunsui to his own devices. Jyuushirou had already learned months ago – in a tiny hospital room full of flying pillows and scathing insults – that there was no forcing Shunsui to take notes or adhere to any form of concentrated application to schoolwork known to spirit-kind. Tired of fighting the tide, but determined to do his best by his friend, Ukitake had taken to simply reading school texts out loud and praying to the gods some of it absorbed into Kyouraku's stubborn head.

This arrangement had worked out nicely – Jyuushirou had found within himself something that relished the chance to open centuries-old scrolls and immerse himself in the kanji. Somewhere hidden between dry facts and sweeping character lines was life, was history, was a whole host of people and events that had lived once and dreamed of living again. Finding the heart of these scrolls, the 'voices' of those they contained, quickly became his passion, and Ukitake rarely cared any longer if Shunsui appreciated half of his efforts...although Jyuushriou was not above slipping in the occasional good-natured insult, hearty ribald or comment on Sunsui's parentage into his recitation, just to see if Kyouraku was listening...

"Hey!"

The single word reported across the sun-drenched field like a gunshot, scattering tranquility. Kyouraku, suddenly alert and perched up on his elbows, glared at Ukitake with unveiled hurt. "My mother does NOT have a horse-face!"

Ukitake, accustomed to such recall-lag, quickly did the math. "That was 20 minutes ago, Shun. How long were you asleep?" Kyouraku had a remarkable gift of verbatim-recall, even while unconscious.

Shunsui glowered, looking grumpy. "What difference does that make? It was uncalled for."

"Just wanted to see if you were paying attention," Ukitake returned, unmoved by anything but the text before him. "This is fascinating stuff, you know – there are theories in here on reiatsu development that are mind-boggling..."

"Bah, _theory_," Shunsui replied, settling back into the grass with a crude scratching of an unmentionable area. "If it can't be proven, what good is it?"

"It presents possibilities," Jyuushirou replied with fervor, scanning ahead through the scroll, hardly able to contain himself. "I mean, if even _half_ this stuff is true...combining kidou weaves, cross-breeding spirit beings, reiatsu transfer..." He glanced up, eyes bright with excitement. "Can you imagine, discovering entire new ways to use spirit power?"

Kyouraku waved a hand, looking bored. "Who needs it? What we have works great."

"Tell that to the caravan last week," Ukitake replied sharply, unable to bite his tongue.

Silence fell over the meadow, less peaceful than before. The report had come in just days ago and its whispered retelling had blazed through the academy students like a wild fire, the details gruesome enough to haunt anyone: a group of travelers, mostly tradesmen, _all _of them family, had been found along one of the roads from Rukongai. Well, what was left of them had been found, little more than bloody heaps of pulp with the occasional scrap of identifying clothing or jewelry. Much debate had gone up, within the Academy as well as the general public, as to what had caused the slaughter. Most insisted it was marauding villains, that the days of Hollow attack so close to civilization were a decade gone and could not have returned so soon after the establishment of the Gotei 4 and Yamamoto's long-dreamt society of peace.

Others, like Jyuushriou, found the worries knotting in their brain like the hard points of imperfect beams of wood, just waiting for enough stress to crack the structure...

Kyouraku grunted. "They'll catch the marauders who did it, and that will be the end of it." His gruff tone reached for calloused, but just ended up sounding subdued. "Enough of that kidou stuff, it's putting ideas into your head."

"Better than nothing," Jyuushirou groused back, noting that his friend's posture looked decidedly nap-like.

"There's nothing wrong with thinking of nothing, unless it keeps you from thinking of women," Kyouraku lilted back, settling a broad straw hat over his eyes just before sitting bolt upright and shoving the brim back. "Speaking of which..."

In an instant he was gone. Jyuushirou sighed, but having caught a glimpse of the intricate braid wrapped around the object of Shunsui's attentions, he knew there was nothing for it and began gathering his scrolls out of the long grasses. Tucking them safely under his arm, he padded quietly across the field.

Unohana Retsu's long-suffering smile told him all he needed; Ukitake closed the distance as quickly as he dared and broke into what was certainly a patented Shunsui flirtation. "Hey, Retsu-san. What are you doing out this way?"

"As I was telling our esteemed Kyouraku-san," Unohana replied, expertly leaning out of Shunsui's attempts to snake an arm around her waist without seeming to move a muscle at all. "I am going on my yearly pilgrimage to the Upper Steppes."

Dark eyebrows rose; Jyuushirou pushed a strand of pale hair out of his eyes. "That's pretty far – you're going on foot?"

"And _alone_!" Kyouraku added, with a dramatic wail. "My dear, the unspeakable things that could happen to a maid traveling in solitude..." He leaned closer, his voice dripping with liquid honey. "If it's a ravishing you're after, there's plenty of more..._enjoyable _options..."

"Yes, I always walk. It's very soothing, I find." Retsu's sparkling eyes answered Ukitake's question first, then turned towards Shunsui. "And I am hardly without resources; I assure you, I will be quite safe."

"Nonsense, there's evil marauders out there!" Shunsui looked aghast, while Ukitake merely raised an eyebrow at Kyourku's lackadaisical attitude just moments before shifting into this fervent over-protectiveness.

_Like I should be surprised, when there's a pretty girl in the mix. _Still, sharing concern for his sensei's safety, Jyuushirou piped in as well. "You can't go all that way by yourself. Let us come with you, at least to the High Plains."

"Jyuushirou, I am appalled at your lack of courtesy!" Kyouraku wailed, bending over in a sweeping gesture to capture Unohana's hand and lay upon it a lavish kiss. "We shall escort you to the very doorstep of your destination, and not an inch less."

Ukitake restrained his eyes from making a full, exasperated rotation, but only just. Instead, he met Unohana's gaze earnestly. "Do you mind some company?"

Retsu just smiled one of her enigmatic smiles and turned gracefully. "Not in the least, Ukitake-san. I cannot imagine better travel companions."

And as they all turned and set down the path together,Shunsui expounding in extensive themes the lengths to which they would protect an honorable maid, Ukitake found himself stifling the oddly familiar feeling that this was exactly what Unohana had intended all along.

* * *

The journey did turn out to be immensely enjoyable. Rumors of miscreants aside, Unohana could hardly have picked a lovelier day for a journey and the company was more pleasant than most. Jyuushirou and Retsu chatted easily about topics of shared interest - of which there seemed to be no end - while Kyouraku vacillated between listening in with elaborate boredom or trotting on ahead in a dramatic show of being on the lookout for trouble.

But days like these were made for traveling in good company, and little bothered them except the occasional stiff breeze or momentary cloud that hid the dipping sun. Ukitake was surprised to find the miles rolling out behind them with relative ease, any strain eclipsed by avid conversation. When they reached the lower steppes and the ground began to angle upwards in ever-more-challenging angles, Jyuushirou caught both Unohana and Kyouraku watching him slant-eyed. Something in the air must have been doing his weak lungs a world of good, for Jyuushirou felt quite up to the challenging terrain. If he took a few breaks to rest it was more to ease the minds of his friends than the ever-thinning air.

The sun was just grazing the horizon as they crested the final bluff on a tiny, dusty trail that had had them meandering skywards for hours. As unkempt and remote as the path was, it was surprising to see a rustic yet substantially-sized village spring into sight before them.

Jyuushirou's steps slowed as his eyes widened. "Wow. This is where you're from?" he asked in hushed tones.

Unohana just laughed, musical and low. "Yes. Does it surprise you?"

Ukitake looked again at the village; underneath the obvious destitution and remoteness, there was something in the air around this place that resonated with a subliminal bedrock of strength and fortitude. Its position on the edge of the steppe afforded an expansive view of the lower regions and, in the distance, Sereitei itself.

Ukitake smiled. "No. I think it suits you perfectly."

Retsu shared one of her small smiles, full of more warmth than mystery for once, but the moment was quickly shattered.

"Yeah, scenery and all that. Where's the pub?" Kyouraku made a show of looking lamed from their hike and beleaguered by sobriety to boot.

"There isn't one," Unohana padded slowly in the direction of the villiage, allowing Shunsui half a dozen heartbeats to despair of life before chirping over her shoulder. "However, the farrier on the southwest end of town has been known to brew some experimental spirits from time to time..."

In a whiff of kidou, Shunsui was gone. Ukitake shook his head, still amazed at how quickly his friend could move when properly motivated. "He's going to shunpo himself right into a wall." They had only learned the skill recently, and it was a risky maneuver at best when in unfamiliar surroundings.

"We'll hear if he does," Unohana replied, approaching the ever-growing crowd of ill-clad villagers and children pouring out of the wretched buildings around them. When she drew near, the huddle opened up and swallowed her up in a tiny sea of chattering voices and reaching hands. Seemingly unphased, Retsu reached into her satchel and began pressing objects into reaching hands, always with a quiet, personal word to everyone who sought her attention.

Ukitake shifted his feet self-consciously. "Uhm...can I help or...anything?"

Retsu turned amidst the din and smiled at him brilliantly. "No, Ukitake-san. Feel free to explore; they don't see many outsiders up here, but you are quite safe among the villagers."

It wasn't until she mentioned it that Jyuushirou recognized his nervousness to wander around a strange town by himself, but he immediately acknowledged the silliness of the sentiment. Taking Retsu's suggestion and cursing himself for being a coward, Ukitake took off on his own and began to meander through the rustic structures around him.

It was quite a fascinating experience; as sheltered as Jyuushirou had been his whole life, he'd rarely been afforded the opportunity to explore on his own and he wandered in quite a whimsical manner. Luxuriously, he took in his surroundings with a keen and curious eye. While the houses around him looked at first glance utterly dilapidated, upon closer inspection he found notable signs of age. The village must have been here for a long time, the leaning buildings fortified with some kind of invisible strength to have held out so long in such a remote area. It was not uncommon for the outlying steppes to be the battlefields of endless wars of dominance and greed, but whatever wars this place had seen, it had survived and stood a resounding testimony to fortitude. Ukitake found it oddly inspirational, this wind-swept little town nestled on the hill, held up by pure will.

But even there lay surprise. for as Ukitake wound through the serpentine roads and alleyways a pattern began to emerge. From every sagging, stubborn building, indeed from nearly every corner of the village, a turn or a pause would reveal a stunning vista view of the lower steppes and even, from time to time, Sereitei itself. This place had been built to last, but it had also been designed with an eye on the surrounding beauty. Every turn and twist offered the most incredible vista of sun, sand and mountain.

By the time the sun sank below the horizon, Ukitake was completely smitten with the place.

But as the shadows turned indigo and a cool breeze began to blow in from the valley floor beneath them, practicalities set in. Finally feeling the exertion of the day, as well as the descending chill in the air, Jyuushirou began trying to find his way back to the main square in hopes of finding Unohana. Sleeping arrangements were clearly in order, and while Ukitake was certain Retsu would not have made that an oversight, the task still remained to meet up with her and find out what they were.

However, Jyuushirou's eidetic memory quickly failed him; either the twisting roads or the failing light conspired against him and he was quite definitely lost by the time twilight set in. Feeling his frustration - and his exhaustion - mounting, he began walking towards the first source of light that presented itself...

A warm orange glow spilled out of a nearby building, drawing Ukitake like a moth to flame. He fairly stumbled into the wide opening which housed the source, thinking at first it was a store front, but once inside he ground to a halt. He was standing in the middle of what was obviously a dwelling; an odd, lean-to sort of arrangement that resembled a wind shelter more than an actual home. Still, the interior setup - fire in the center of the room, cookstove and rudimentary eating area to one side, bedding on the other - was obviously inhabited by the tiny figure crouching near the rock-lined fire pit.

"Oh, uhm. I'm sorry for intruding," Ukitake stuttered, prepared to back away, when a movement from the creature startled him into immobility.

The person - it was impossible to tell if it was a woman or a man - jerked a rounded chin up, revealing a face so deeply lined and wrinkled that it further obscured any hope of ascertaining gender. Wiry, gun-metal hair stuck out in every direction, defying a rather tired scrap of leather that was trying to contain it in a topnot. The face turned in one direction, then another, while a strange noise seemed to fill the heavy air. It took Ukitake a long moment to realize that the person was _sniffing_.

"Uhm...I was just looking for my friend," Ukitake reiterated, trying to slink back. "I'll just.."

"_Sea_."

Again, Ukitake froze, his brain trying to wrap itself around the strange sound. The voice, gravelly to the point of near-incoherence, had spoken the word with such fervor that the air seemed to quiver around it.

"Uh..." Now that her - Ukitake arbitrarily chose a gender - head was up, he could finally see the slits of her eyes, nearly hidden by wrinkles and completely white. Understanding crashed into him. "Oh." Jyuushirou felt terrible; clearly the old woman was blind, perhaps she had lost something. "You want me to see something for you?"

Again the woman's head twitched, and a gnarled hand lifted to crook a finger at him. Nearly falling over himself to be helpful, Jyuushirou trotted forward, and at another gesture forward again until he was standing very close to the crouched figure. There he paused, slightly uncomfortable, for a long silence that proved to be even less comfortable.

That strange rasping sound again; the woman sniffed, her tiny nose wrinkling up. "Smell the sea." Ukitake's eyes plowed furrows, but she murmured on. "Salt. Burning. Ocean. _Storm_..."

His sense of orientation took a nosedive as Ukitake tried to make sense of her ramblings. "Oba-san, there is no ocean. The sea is leagues away and there is no storm..." There rarely were, in Soul Society. _Poor grandmother has lost her senses_, flashed through Jyuushirou's mind even as he eyeballed the doorway.

As if sensing his urgency to leave, the gnarled hand snaked out and grabbed Jyuushirou's wrist with a surprisingly iron grip. Bewilderment descended into horror as Ukitake found himself dragged closer, until he was practically touching noses with the tiny harpy.

Milk-white eyes locked onto his with a vision that seared across Ukitake's skin. The woman's voice rattled low, urgent. "There is an ocean in you. A sea on fire. Thunder and lightning that tears the sky. The storm rages, waves pounding against a shore of rock. Time and again, time eternal, the sea is held back..." The hypnotic voice dropped until it was barely a hoarse whisper. "But stone cannot last forever. Eons pass, and stone is worn down, worn away..._take care the sea does not win_."

With a gnarled finger, the woman tapped once against Ukitake's chest.

Something _lurched_.

A sharp, breeze tore through the shelter, catching a fistful of sparks from the fire, and with a yelp Ukitake tore himself free. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he gasped desperately for breath, like a drowning man. _Something in his sternum burned like fire. _ Panicked, unsteady, he turned and lurched for the doorway, practically falling into the street as he tried to get away as fast as he could on legs turned to rubber.

Outside was hardly a relief; the world had descended into shades of indigo and gray and pitch black. Objects appeared before he could avoid them, the roads were twistier than before, as Jyuushirou stumbled frantically down one turn after another, seeking something familiar, _anything _with which to orient himself. He had no idea how long he floundered about - it seemed like half the night - when he finally heard a blessedly welcome voice.

"Oiy! Party's over here, pretty boy!"

Still trying to gasp enough air into his throbbing lungs, Ukitake turned toward the voice like a drowning man towards water's surface and practically threw himself into the firelight of a small clearing.

Still off-kilter, Jyuushirou felt a small amount of panic subside as light and warmth surrounded him. He blinked hard, trying to take in an all-too-familiar scene.

Kyouraku was wrapped around a too-small table in front of a large building, huddled over a tankard and grinning like a lynx. Brown eyes sized him up instantly. "So, you found the farrier too, huh?"

Ukitake shook his head, trying to clear the remaining fog. It didn't work. "I was trying to find Unohana," he said around a thick tongue.

A dark eyebrow quirked; Shunsui seemed to look him over again. "She's inside, sleeping; This is some kind of family home of hers. We've got rooms in the back..."

Without further preamble, Jyuushirou turned and lurched in the direction Shunsui's thumb had indicated. He tripped over his own feet and would have hit dirt if strong hands hadn't caught him under his arms.

"Hey, pretty boy, take it easy." Kyouraku's face was twisted with uncharacteristic concern. "I know you're a lightweight, but you usually quit well ahead...are you alright?"

Ukitake did his best to brush of his concern; he had no intention of recounting his odyssey. "I...just...need to sleep. _Please_."

Shunsui didn't buy it at first. "Let me get Retsu."

"_No_," Ukitake replied with an urgency he didn't understand. "Just let me sleep, I'll be fine in the morning..." And with that, he felt a wave of blackness rise up and he sunk underneath it.

That night, he dreamed of the ocean, lit by the searing light of countless silver lightening bolts.

* * *

He _wasn't_ fine in the morning. Still off-kilter, Jyuushirou at least had enough rest to put up a decent front. Shunsui was hardly fooled and kept glancing at him askance, but Retsu seemed none the wiser as she made sure they all had a hearty breakfast before setting out for Sereitei before the early fogs had lifted.

The return trip held no easy banter. Shunsui and Retsu played their verbal tete a tete while Ukitake drifted on ahead of them, through the hazy mist that drifted lightly around them. In a strange state of hyper-awareness, Jyuushirou quickly lost sense of time, catching every shifting tendril of moisture in the mist that surrounded them, feeling every stone beneath his sandals. Even the muffled sounds of his companions behind him came to him with utter clarity; Ukitake could hear every word, every footfall, every rustle of cloth. Not knowing why, Jyuushirou strode further and further ahead, absently fingering the hilt of his zanpaktou...

He stopped. Took a breath.

The fog lifted.

A full score of men stood in the road before them. Raggedly dressed, all of them armed. Ukitake stood his ground, looked them over, wondered what was missing. It wasn't until he heard his friends ground to a halt behind them, heard Retsu's sudden intake of breath, that Ukitake settled on a realization.

He wasn't the least bit afraid. Hand on hilt, Ukitake _waited_.

"Lovely day for a walk, ain't it?" The closest mongrel, the presumed leader, grinned rafishly as he growled in a rough dialect.

Behind him, Ukitake heard Shunsui take a step forward; a rustle of cloth announced his scabbard being bared as well. "Not half bad. Although the landscape is pretty fucking ugly." Kyouraku halted a few steps behind Ukitake, a few in front of Unohana. Jyuushirou mentally nodded; two obstacles to get through in order to reach Retsu. Well chosen.

No longer smiling, the front man cocked a headful of greasy hair and eyed them appraisingly. "Speak fer yerself. Me, I'm seein' a coupla paydays standing right in fron' a me." The other men began to chuckle blackly and stalk closer.

"We're just students, citizen," Unohana said softly. "We're not carrying any money."

"That's cuz yer' assumin' we're common thieves," the leader growled, giving Retsu a look that made Shunsui growl subliminally through his teeth. "Me an' my band play for higher stakes than pickpocketin'."

Ukitake, still feeling oddly centered, felt his pulse begin to rise. Behind him, Shunsui's energy began to pulse as well.

"Oh yeah, rape is so much more elevated." Ukitake could well imagine the hair-raising grin his friend wore beneath a deadly gaze.

"A bit o' sport is all well and good," the leader snarled, closing in on them while his band began to spread out. "But again, yer underestimtin' me and my gang. My _intelligence_. Which, when ya think about it, is a very..." Black eyes, barely half a dozen paces away now, gleamed greedily. "_Noble _thing to do. Doncha think?" That wicked grin returned, full of ragged teeth. "I wonder, how much does a Kyouraku ransom fer nowadays?"

The charge in the air suddenly shifted. Ukitake slid to the side, just a hair, glancing over his shoulder. The band of ruffians was all around them now, and Unohana and Shunsui had likewise shifted so that each had their backs to the center.

Kyouraku laughed, a hard sound. "Less than you'd think. Hell, kill me outright and my father might thank you for it." He sounded eager to begin fighting. Unohana must have sensed it; her quiet voice pierced the tension.

"Gentlemen, we're Academy students. You cannot fight us without coming to great harm."

The leader fingered his longstaff, still grinning. "Oh, I doubt that missy."

Something was wrong. Ukitake felt his pulse crashing through his veins as he tried to hear through the roaring in his ears. Something was wrong...

Shunsui bared steel.

"No!" The cry escaped Ukitake's lips before he could think, but not before something crashed into Shunsui's arms hard enough to send his zanpaktou flying through the air with bone-crunching force. Roaring, Kyouraku whirled around, saw nothing. The buzzing in Ukitake's head reached a fever pitch, an electric current flashing through his veins. His wide-eyed gaze darted from enemy to enemy, seeking, _reaching_...and like a bolt of lightning he figured it out.

_They had spirit power._ Gods knew how many, or what kinds of abilities, but they wouldn't have attacked armed souls with reiatsu unless they were confident they could defeat them. A final glance at the leader told Ukitake all he needed to know; whoever these men where, _whatever _they were, they had the upper hand.

That brutal clarity suddenly snapped Jyuushirou into focus. Fear washed away in one cool wave, even as the raging pain in his chest rose high enough to nearly lift him from the ground. Ukitake noted it absently, the searing agony of the spirit power surging through him a remote thing. As if from a distance, Ukitake murmured to his friends.

_"It's ok, guys. Let me handle this."_

Their protests didn't reach his ears; Jyuushirou straightened up and drew his sword. Wave after wave of energy flowed through him as he held his zanpaktou aloft, both hands gripping the hilt, words tumbling out of him as natural as rainfall.  
_  
"All of the waves, become my shield. All of the lightening, become my blade."_

Power raged within him, too great to hold in. Lightning seared through him, burning a cleft straight through his spirit body into his soul. Ukitake caught a rising tidalwave, rode it straight into the next peal of thunder, and grabbed hold of _the storm_.

_The __name_.

_"Sougyo no kotowari!"_

With a twist of his wrists, he ripped his sword in two.


	13. The Calm Before

"Hey, Ukitake-san!"

Jyuushirou's head snapped up at the cry, hazel eyes sparkling. "Oh, hello Muziru-san..."

Muziru fairly bounced on his toes, eyes wide and slightly out of breath. Whether it was from exertion or the exhilaration of speaking with him, Jyuushirou couldn't tell. "Where are you off to, Ukitake-san?"

Jyuushirou's grin twisted wryly and gained an edge of long-suffering. "To graduation, classmate. " _The same as everyone else,_ he kept unsaid, but just barely.

"Oh of course," Muziru blushed, head ducking sheepishly. "I don't mean to imply that you haven't an invitation yet, but you're more than welcome to sit in our section…?"

Ukitake suppressed a sigh; it was the fifth invitation he'd gotten this morning alone. "I would love to, honorable Muziru-san, but I'm afraid my placing has already been selected." A rather staid excuse, but it had worked so far and Jyuushirou was tired of coming up with new ones. "No offense, but I have been asked to sit with the upperclassmen. It's really all the same view anyway, the square isn't that large…" he tacked on, rather lamely.

"Oh that's fine, I just thought I'd ask is all….well, see you there!" Muziru fairly injured himself bowing and blushing his way to a retreat, forcing another muted sigh out of Ukitake.

This was exactly why he'd gratefully accepted an invitation to sit in the upper seating with Unohana. Not only would the privileged location grant him a much better experience of graduation than his nearly passing out on the cobblestones last year, but it would get him away from the greater portion of his classmates.

Most of whom had decided he was now the most popular guy in school. Now, for a kid who had grown up sickly and sequestered at home, this was a new and delightful development. When it wasn't downright overwhelming, that is. Ukitake generally liked his fellow students, but having every single one of them seek him out at some point or another, armed with an inane comment as often as with legitimate questions about schoolwork, just for the sake of saying they had talked to him…now _that_ was weird. Not that Jyuushirou had a big head; he was flattered that anyone would seek his opinion on anything.

He just – _almost_ – wished it wasn't because he'd gotten shikai in his second Academy year, the earliest accomplishment on record. A record barely a decade old, he was quick to remind anyone while blushing to the very tips of his ears, but the breaking of it was still enough to catapult his popularity to a level nigh-on hero worship.

With that adoration came an unexpected and not entirely welcome familiarity. Academy students who could boast shikai could be counted on both hands without resorting to toes, and for most the achievement brought with it a protective cloak of mistique. Regular students were too afraid to even _look_ at someone with shikai, much less engage in conversation.

With Jyuushirou, it was an entirely different story; his peers regarded him as one of their own and therefore entirely approachable. As a result, they did so on every possible occasion, asking the most unseemly questions about how he'd managed it, what it was like...and so on. While Jyuushirou didn't mind the overall attention, he felt his back teeth set at the very thought of discussing such a thing openly.

The experience of shikai wasn't something easily shared. Nor was it easily _contained _for that matter, an overwhelming dichotomy nearly impossible to put into words even had Ukitake wanted to. He could _feel_ Sogyouku no Kotowari thundering through him, keening under the caress of his thumb on hilt, a gesture he seemed to do all hours of the day without thinking. Jyuushirou could barely claim enough discipline to take the katana off at night, and would dream of ocean storms for the long hours until he could wake up and belt on again. The sweet cacophony of Sogyou no Kotowari was new and intoxicating enough to nearly sweep him away. It did at times, in class, which embarrassed him to no end even while his senseis did their best to assure him it was utterly normal for the wielder of a newly-awoken zanpaktou.

In the simplest of terms, shikai was impossible to share with someone who'd never experienced it. It was a heady, overwhelming and not entirely unpleasant addiction…

And one Ukitake would have shared with Shunsui in a heartbeat, if he could. Feeling the afternoon darken at that train of thought, Jyuushirou's face drew into a frustrated frown.

The one person he could imagine talking to about his first experience with his sword was the only individual who insisted on acting like it hadn't even happened.

Ever since that day on the road, something had changed. Besides the obvious ramp in power-level, Ukitake had been forced to acknowledge a slow but undeniable shift in the dynamics of his two closest friends. His friendship with Unohana melded almost effortlessly into a regard of equals. At times Ukitake could almost imagine she felt that she herself had played a part in his evolution, an idea born only by the occasional glimpse of a secret, faintly proud air he found ghosting through her enigmatic smile.

But Shunsui was something far different. Ostensibly, he seemed to have no care at all that Ukitake had leap-frogged him on a power scale. That much tracked; Kyouraku had little to no ambition for advancement and could hardly be accused of caring any more for Ukitake's sudden popularity than he would of Ukitake getting a higher grade (which happened as regularly as sunrise). In public, on the rare occasions when Shunsui couldn't keep the focus on himself, he would ignore the fuss surrounding Ukitake to a degree that was almost frightening.

In private, the disregard was so strong Jyuushirou could taste it like bile on the back of his tongue. Training was different as well; Ukitake was too afraid of the seething tension to even suggest exercising his newfound power, not to mention fretting that he'd end up actually hurting Kyouraku…and holding back wasn't exactly their style. Their spars had become so awkward they were nearly intolerable; what had once been a joy was starting to become drudgery, and that hurt Ukitake more than he could admit.

It wasn't just during training. Sessions ended earlier and earlier, yes, but conversations also grew shorter. What used to be a comfortable pause in conversation that now weighed like a millstone. All small things; anyone who had never had a best friend before probably wouldn't have noticed them. To Jyuushirou, who could count friends that weren't direct relatives on a single hand, it niggled like a rotting tooth.

He was loathe call it jealousy. But what else could it be? And what should it matter? So he had shikai – so _what_? He trained often enough with Kyouraku to know that his peer was only minutely behind him in power, if at all. Frankly, why Shunsui hadn't achieved his own shikai long before stumped Jyuushirou. There was no question he had the greater talent for combat; truthfully, Shunsui was Ukitake's superior in nearly everything that didn't require a pen a paper. So why something like this should come between their friendship…

Ukitake gritted his teeth, hating the sudden and increasingly familiar swell of resentment in his chest. _I shouldn't have to choose between my best friend and my zanpaktou._

"Ukitake-san!"

At the quiet hail, Jyuushirou sternly took hold of brooding thoughts and forced the scowl from his brow. Whirling around and trying not to make eye contact with the milling students around him, Ukitake took in the great graduation square with a grin. Unohana Retsu wasn't hard to spot, with her distinctive features and a delicate arm waving modestly at him. Feeling his step lighten, Jyuushirou ducked around throngs of students buzzing with excitement as he climbed the shallow steps to the upper seats.

"Heya, Unohana-san," Ukitake greeted her breezily as he slid into an empty place at her side. Settling in, his green eyes drank in the sights. "These seats are great! Better than I expected," he admitted, pinking slightly.

"Only the best for my esteemed friends," Retsu replied demurely, eyes sparkling. "I saved two seats…"

"Kyouraku won't be joining us," Jyuushirou replied, a little too quickly. _I'd rather have my ass hairs plucked by a blind monk_ had been Shunsui's exact wording, but Ukitake didn't repeat that sort of language around a lady. Instead, he grinned and rolled his eyes slightly. "You know him, he's halfway to Rukongai by now."

"And more than halfway drunk," Retsu giggled lightly. "It's a shame; this would have been more fun with Shunsui."

"Most things are," Ukitake admitted, sharing another wry look with Unohana. He shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to retread his thought paths of mere moments ago. Jyuushirou focused on the spectacle stretching out below them instead. "Wow, things really do look different up here. Were we all so hyped up with excitement last year?" He asked, regarding the teeming crowd and wondering if he'd been half so ecstatic to be attending his first graduation ceremony.

As usual, Retsu seemed to see far more than was fair. "Rampant rumors tend to bring out unusual spectators," she murmured, staring out at the expanse as well. "Everyone thinks this year with be exceptionally exciting."

"Unusual?" Ukitake scanned the crowd, absently rubbing the hilt of his zanpaktou again.

"Surely you've hear the talk," Unohana replied, her low voice carrying over the general hubbub. "There's rumors of a special exhibition this year."

"Exhibition…?" Realizing he was scanning the crowd for a distinctively discheveled mop of tangled brown hair, Ukitake forced his focus back to his present friend. Something started to turn in his stomach. "What do you mean?"

Unohana shrugged delicately. "I don't mean anything. But if the general speculation is anything to go by…" Onyx eyes met his carefully, understanding mingled with the subtlest hint of caution. "Some people seem to think they'll get to see a display of shikai this day."

It took him a full heartbeat to catch her drift. When he did, Ukitake very nearly lost his lunch right then and there; as it was, his lungs spasmed so hard he nearly set himself on a coughing fit. Speaking was out of the question; Jyuushirou found himself gaping at Unohana like a dying man searching for breath.

Concern filled her eyes as she placed a hand firmly on his. "Easy now, you've gone as white as your hair. _Breathe_." Jyuushirou did his best to oblige her; collapsing into a hunched heap, he dragged in a ragged lungful of air even as he wished the very ground would open up and swallow him. Instantly, he felt as if every eye were on them, on _him_…

Retsu continued to speak quietly, feeding him soothing energy even while her poise kept from making a scene. "Don't panic; I only told you what I've _heard_. I wanted you to know what people were saying," she patted his hand again, looking uncertain for once if she'd made the right decision in telling him.

Ukitake managed a nod, trying to get this throat to work long enough to speak his mind. _I've got to get out of here_…

Just then the square fell silent. The ceremony had begun.

And there was no way to move now. Somehow during his panic everyone had found their places, and the entire Academy student body was holding formation under the force of the greatest mountain of reiatsu in Sereitei. Ukitake couldn't move a muscle without drawing exactly the kind of attention he was dreading.

Yamamoto stood in the center of the square, still as a stone. Jyuushirou's breath caught; this was indeed unusual. The normal graduation ceremony called for all the attention to be on the graduating class, on their skill and accomplishments. Genryuusai usually presided over graduation like the figurehead he was but did so aloof, letting nothing more than his presence lend weight to the ceremony. It wasn't his way to make speeches, but to let power speak for itself.

Not this time. As if waiting for every last person to focus on him – hardly a necessary precaution; it was difficult to breathe around the man when his power seethed like that – the Captain-Commander drew himself up over that gnarled stick of his and, with a deep breath, boomed out to the assembly.

"You may think you know why we are here," growled the strongest being in Soul Society. He managed to glare without cracking a single eyelid open. "Some of you think me old, but I have ears. I hear scuttlebutt. This ceremony is one of strength, of power. And this year, one of you has achieved more than most."

_Oh no,_ Ukitake's gut sank like a millstone straight to his toes. _Oh gods please no_…

"I have heard many wager that there would be more to this ceremony than the usual class demonstration," Yamamoto grated, knuckles gripping his cane. "That a display of shikai would be an honor to this school and to this ceremony."

You could have heard a pin drop in the square. Ukitake screwed his eyes shut and held his breath, like a man on a guillotine waiting for the blade to drop.

"_You were wrong_." Yamamoto roared. Silence. Heartbeats passed; a barely perceptible collective deflation wended through the assembly. In everyone else, it was mutual disappointment.

Jyuushirou very nearly passed out with relief. He felt wet-wrung.

"You think to honor this school? You wish to see a shikai?" Genryuusai continued, relentless, his tone scathing. "_Find your own._ Make no mistake: this Academy is here to make every single one of you the very greatest his destiny will allow. For most of you this means hardly anything at all." The Captain Commander pivoted a slow turn, seeming to catch everyone's eye.

He came to a halt facing Ukitake's section. "Only a handful of you will ever reach the heavens. Strive to be one of them, or go home." For another breathless moment he held them thralled by his conviction, before he grunted and turned on his heel. With the stately pace of an emperor, he made his way to his usual spot and settled himself on the dais, overlooking the proceedings. Yamamoto said not another word.

A hollow trail of breeze dirfted across the square as the ceremony hesitantly began, and Ukitake drew what felt like his first breath in ages. Blushing, he realized he still gripped Retsu's hand like a life raft; as deftly as he could, he extricated himself from the twine of her fingers. She smiled at him, her warm eyes seeming to share his relief.

The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur. Jyuushirou almost wished this time around that it would take longer than he'd remembered; before he could think of a good way to make himself scarce, the final demonstration crescendoed to an approving roar and the graduation was concluded.

Too fast, the crowd was getting to its feet and milling about. Ukitake swallowed and tried to find the nearest exit, loathe to be the center of any more attention, but for once it seemed that everyone was avoiding his eye.

_All for the best_, Ukitake supposed, followed hard by a very Shunsui-like thought. _Gods, I need a drink_…

Speaking of the devil, a calloused hand dropped onto his shoulder, very nearly separating it from its socket. "Well, aren't we just the pretty princess at the ball?"

Ukitake had never been so happy to smell stale sake. "Thank gods, Kyouraku. Get me the hell out of here."

Shunsui shot him a lopsided grin, leaning off-kilter to an alarming degree. "Wha', you just think I can just walz ya outta here?"

"You did last year," Ukitake groused, trying to dislodge his friend's hand without tipping the man over. He tried once more to find the nearest exit.

"That was before you had fangirls, m'boy," Kyouraku slurred. "Trust me – fangirls are batshit crazy. There's no avoiding them." He somehow managed to stumble while snagging Ukitake around the waist and awkwardly crab-walked him in no particular direction

"Knock it off," Jyuushirou snapped, trying to pull free. Kyouraku's arms were like tree trunks. "Why are _you_ here then?" he snarled.

"Me?" Shunsui replied with the innocence of suckling kittens, staggering again. "Total accident. I was trying to find my way up a woman's skirt and I got lost."

Despite himself, Ukitake snickered. "That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard." His attempt to pull loose this time was decidedly half-hearted.

"Bullshit, I've said lamer." Shunsui finally found his stride, and Ukitake miraculously found himself away from the thickest of the crowds. "Besides, I heard some rumor that some big kiss-ass was gonna show off-"

Ukitake finally pulled free, shoving hard. "Not you, too." Kyouraku's rump hit the dust with a satisfying plop. Ukitake whirled and strode off before he could feel bad about it. "Don't you dare tell me you came thinking I was going to…to-"

A hand caught his elbow; Jyuushirou tried to jerk free, but was yanked around to face a suddenly-somber Kyouraku. "No, I didn't," Shunsui growled, looking rather vexed. "That's why I came."

Ukitake's brows crossed in confusion. Shunsui strode past him without another word.

"Come on. I think we both need a drink."

Jyuushirou watched him go for half a dozen paces, something unpleasant twisting deep in his chest, before he finally sighed and started trudging after him.

* * *

The night did not exactly go well. Rukongai was seething with a revelry that was oddly intolerable to Ukitake. Of course, Shunsui merely fed on the decadence, dragging him from one sake hut to another, leaving the one for the other only after he had drunk their wine cellar dry. Not that Rukongian bars could afford the same volume of stock one could find in Sereitei, but it was still an impressive feat. Kyouraku tossed coin away like they were pebbles, buying drinks for every patron and leaving larders bare in his wake. Always with a female dandled on his knee, a jug to drain in his hand.

Jyuushirou grew tired of it within the first hour. There was only one reason to stick it out. Shunsui had almost, _almost _spoken about Ukitake's shikai. He couldn't pass on the chance to actually, _finally _broach this topic.

Still, the moon grew long and honeyed over their heads and Ukitake could _not_ figure out a way to tackle the issue of the tension between him and Shunsui. It was unsettling. Jyuushirou hadn't considered himself much of a coward before now, and he would have liked to think his skills at mediation, diplomacy and communication were above average.

But he just couldn't get the simple words to come out. Even with a fuzzy head and a free tongue, he couldn't seem to put together a single question that covered exactly what he wanted to ask. Everything he rehearsed in his head (from blunt: "Are you jealous I have shikai?" to vauge: "What the hell is wrong with you, anyway?") sounded so off-putting Ukitake couldn't dream of saying it out loud.

And so, he followed Kyouraku from one sake hut to the next, indulging in one drink out of every ten of Shunsui's and barely even speaking to anyone until very nearly dawn. Cursing himself for six kinds of cowardice and dreading the hangover he was going to have in the morning, he stumbled along behind the indefatigable Shunsui wondering what the hell he was doing.

_It's just a stupid shikai,_ Jyuushirou groused to himself.

"Hrm, what was that?" Shunsui's slurred voice wended to him through the lifting darkness.

Ukitake blinked, swaying slightly as he tried to find his bearings. Dawn was just nudging up against a typical starless Soul Society night with only the merest of breezes to stir the air. Gravel crunched underfoot; they were on a road then, somewhere between the dirt streets of Rukongai and the paved walkways of nobility. No doubt in the forested areas, on their way to another sake hut…

"You say sumthin, pretty boy?" Kyouraku's voice, closer this time.

Jyuushirou rubbed his eyes, trying again to focus. Had he spoken out loud? "I don't want to go to another bar, Shun."

"Oh come on," Shunsui smirked, trotting closer and grabbing his wrist. "You're trying to prove you can keep up with me, remember?"

Ukitake pulled free, glaring with all the strength of sake. "Is _that_ what this is about?"

"Is what what'sis all about?" Shunsui slurred, looking thrown off a bit. "Look, _you_ said you could drink me under the table…which we both know is bullshit-"

Jyuushirou was pretty damn certain he'd said no such thing. Suddenly fed up with Kyouraku, he found a venomous tone hiding deep within him. "No, not that." Heat licked down Ukitake's veins as he finally spat without fanfare. "This is about my shikai."

Kyouraku stilled as much as he was able only a pace away, staring at him with an expression Ukitake was probably glad he couldn't quite make out. There was silence, broken only by a chorus of cicaidas.

Finally, "Naw it isn't."

"Bullshit." Ukitake worked the obscenity around his tongue, found he liked the taste. "You've been different ever since."

Kyouraku did that unsettling thing where he seemed to sober up in an instant. He stalked closer in the gloom, like a panther. "You got something to say to me, man up and say it." His gaze burned like napalm.

Jyuushirou had a moment of vertigo as the tiny and still-rational part of his brain lost the war for control over his tongue. "You're jealous of me."

A long pause before Shunsui shook his head. "No."

"You are!" Ukitake took a step forward, feeling like he wanted to take a swing at…_something_. "You hate me for being stronger than you."

"Jyuush, stop. " Kyouraku, sounding softly pained.

"Well you know what? I don't care. I've _never_ been stronger than anyone before!" Ukitake drew in a sharp breath, spit it out. It hurt. "Why can't you let me enjoy it for _five fucking minutes_?"

Shunsui's face floated closer in the growing light, tight with something Ukitake couldn't figure out through the fog in his head. Hands grasped Ukitake's shoulders, grip strong but surprisingly gentle. "Stop now. You're going to regret this tomorrow. You don't mean what you're saying."

"I mean _exactly_ what I'm saying, and I won't regret a thing." Ukitake snarled back, finally finding the root of his fury. "Look at you – a young, strong _High_ Noble. You have _everything_ – you're rich, you're strong, you're…." Ukitake drew a deep, shaky breath and hollered. "How DARE you hate me for something like this? _This is the best thing I have!"_

Silence, worse than before. The hands loosed their grip. "That's what you think of me?" Kyouraku hissed, gliding away from him. Recoiling, almost.

"What else am I supposed to think?" Jyuushirou shouted back, some of the wind drifting out of his sails now that his temper had boiled over. His hindbrain clamored for attention.

"Fine," Shunsui snapped. Pivoting on a heel, he turned and stalked off into the trees.

Jyuushirou listened to the retreating footfalls for a full ten seconds before he came to his senses. "Hey, where are you going? Get back here, we're not _finished_," he added belatedly trying to put heat back into his tone.

He took off into the woods at a brisk trot. The forest twisted away through gnarled old trees, and Kyouraku was nowhere to be seen even as the predawn light matured. Alarmed, Ukitake quickened his pace, restraining the urge to call out again. Long minutes passed; he still saw nothing. With a chill creeping down his spine, Jyuushirou instead halted and taking a deep breath, held absolutely still and _listened_.

Nothing. The light wind rustled the trees just enough to mask any small sound. Taking a moment to control his panic, Ukitake forced his clearing head to reason and _reached_ with his senses…

_There_. Shunsui was barely a quarter mile back and a good hundred paces to the west. His reiatsu simmered like a molten volcano, it did not appear to be moving; within moments, Ukitake had a pretty solid lock on him. Annoyed, and yet somewhat relieved, Jyuushirou backtracked and centered in on the roiling spirit power. Ignoring the distinct possibility of transporting himself directly into a tree trunk, Ukitake skipped a few quick steps of shunpo to where Kyouraku was no doubt sulking.

He dropped into a tiny clearing with a volley of angry words at the ready.

The sun broke horizon behind him. And every single word died on his lips, unspoken.

Kyouraku stood towering over an indentation in the ground, staring transfixed at an irregular mound of what could only be fresh corpses, poorly hidden among leaves and lingering shadows. Jyuushirou didn't even have to breathe in the stench to see the flies that circled tangled limbs and severed heads. The tree trunks around them bore black swaths of dried blood.

Trying not to gag, Ukitake shifted automatically onto the balls of his feet as Sogyou no Kotowari roared to readiness inside his very marrow. One hand gripping the hilt of his zanpaktou, Jyuushirou sensed out the glade with every budding skill he had. The area felt _wrong_, but clear of encroachments. Unnerved, he glided forward to touch Kyouraku lightly on the forearm.

"Come on," he sussurated, feud forgotten. Hazel eyes glinted silver as they scanned the perimeter. "We need to tell the authorities-"

Shunsui didn't move. "They're off the road." His voice grated hoarsely, setting Ukitake's hair on end. "They didn't stay on the road. The road goes right through public lands; it's cared for by Sereitei, it belongs to everyone. Why didn't they stay on the road?"

"Shu, they're dead," Ukitake added grimly. He tugged on his friends' sleeve, more insistently this time. "What difference does it make? We need to report this."

"If they had died on the road, it would be the Gotei's jurisdiction," Shunsui muttered feverishly, brushing off the tug like he was swatting a gnat. "They were slaughtered in the _forest_, Jyuu." He finally dragged his eyes around to meet Ukitake's, and what he saw in those depths branded his soul.

"They were murdered in _my_ _forest_."

Kyouraku's reiatsu flared and he vanished. Ukitake swore under his breath, gripping hilt hard and reaching with his senses again. He was easy to find this time, considering how much reiatsu he was dumping; Shunsui was half a league away already and shunpoing faster than Ukitake thought possible. Leaning on his own reiatsu, begging help from Sougyou no Kotowari, Jyuushirou took chase.


	14. Games

Gasping for breath, Ukitake skidded to a halt on an expanse of obsidian pavestones. The raw sun set the sky alight above him, setting his surroundings into a strangely shadowed relief. With a shiver and a rough cough, Jyuushirou brushed sweat-dampened bangs out of his eyes and tried to get his bearings.

The mad dash through the woods was all a blur, Shunsui's reiatsu flickering in and out of range so far ahead of him that it had been all Ukitake could do to keep on his trail. Only when the pace slowed perceptibly had he been able to gain ground, and he now stood in the shadow of a behemoth structure, all thick turrets and ominous scale. The burning sunrise did nothing to soften the brooding surroundings, and Jyuushirou suppressed another shiver. A shrill cry tore the night air; a crow, taking wing far overhead. To the ripping sound of wings tearing the air, Ukitake glanced around the looming manor, straining for a glimpse of his friend ahead.

"Shunsui?"

Jyuushirou's voice echoed back to him, far thinner and more tremulous than he would have liked. The massive structure looming around him seemed to suck in all sound and return nothing but a sense of intrusion. Gritting his teeth, Ukitake trotted faster until he came upon a massive, steel-banded door. It was slightly ajar. Without hesitation, he ducked inside.

The breaking dawn behind him vanished, and Ukitake found himself in a wide courtyard with walls so high they blocked most of the growing light outside. Peering through the gleaming grayscale around him, he restrained the urged to draw his blade. He tried very hard not to shiver and failed miserably when a whisper intruded on his thoughts.

_This place is a dungeon. _The sound of his zanpaktou in the back of his head did nothing to still Ukitake's nerves, observation considered.

_This must be House Kyouraku_, Jyuushirou replied silently, seeking comfort in reason.

_It's a hell-hole_, the other blade replied, its child-like voice shivering with electricity and a bland innocence that unnerved Ukitake all the more.

_Stop it, you're upsetting Jyuu_. Ukitake's first blade generally gave the impression of being more female with its higher pitched tone, even though he knew zanpaktou had no gender. Furthermore, they gave him a headache talking separately when his blade was still sealed.

The second half of his blade scoffed. _Shun 's upset, so _he'll_ be. Stop being a baby_.

_I'm _not_ a ba-!_

_Stop it both of you!_ Ukitake hissed in his head, screwing his eyes shut and blotting out the throbbing in his skull. A strong sense of Shunsui nearby had him nearly gasping in relief, and throwing all caution to the wind – to escape his own wavering nerve or just the bickering of his swords he would never tell – Jyuushirou seized reiatsu and _flashed _blind.

Stumbling, he found himself in a near pitch-black hallway. Down the corridor, a wan torch guttered. And just beyond it, a hint of motion.

Ukitake's knees weakened; he forced them into motion. "Shunsui! Wait!"

Ahead, in the occasional pools of weak light, Kyouraku's unmistakable form flowed with all the sinuous tension of a panther on the prowl. Ukitake gritted his teeth and did another flash, almost a hiccup. From one second to the next, he was side by side and scrambling to keep up with Shunsui's longer stride.

He knew better than to get in his way, but Ukitake had to try to employ reason. "They're dead, Shun. You can't change that."

Shunsui said nothing, but even in profile his expression was scathing. Focusing instead on keeping stride, Jyuushirou realized he had no idea what to say at a time like this. Tentatively, he sought Sougyou no Kotawari's advice.

The blades said nothing. Taking the hint, Ukitake fell into step and screwed his tongue in place.

They passed through another corridor, followed by a larger hall. Each was wrapped in shadow, only intermittently broken by a torchere that seemed on the very edge of giving out. The place was like a catacomb; at the analogy, Ukitake shivered again, reached for comfort in his zanpaktou.

He found little. _What a horrid place to grow up. _ Ukitake thought of Ugendo with its large windows, southern breezes and endless open fields nestled against the great, green lake. He thought of his family, large, effusive, loving. Warm.

He compared it to the place he was now, and for the briefest of moments imagined what it would be like trading one for the other.

Something inside Ukitake hardened. He no longer found it difficult to meet Shunsui's stride.

They made another sharp turn, where the sight of a servant nearly sent Ukitake yelping. Shunsui rounded on the creature even as it shrank into subservience at the sight of them.

"Where are they?"

The cowering servant silently raised a bony arm rose, indicating a direction. Shunsui followed the gesture, long legs eating ground. A few more cramped passageways slid past before a barricade arose before them. Without so much as a pause Kyouraku threw himself against a solid oak door fully three inches thick. It flew open as if it were a gossamer curtain. Ukitake followed close, barely breathing.

Expansiveness spread before them, boasting more illumination although the grander halls in this wing felt even colder for the spaciousness. Ukitake took it all in peripherally, a distant part of his brain wondering what the hell they were doing.

Shunsui headed straight for a door, small in comparison to the rest of the hallway. It was open. Beyond it was tiny reception room, its interior brightly lit through the haze of smoking candlelight. It was only here that Shunsui hesitated; hitching his gaze to meet the eyes of a wizened figure curved around a gilded desk, Kyouraku barked roughly even as his pace slowed to a halt.

"I need to see him."

Despite the difference in stature, the wiry scribe arched an anemic eyebrow. "Busy. You should know that." He appeared utterly unimpressed, turning back to his scrolls.

Shunsui placed hands the size of hamhocks on the tiny desktop, leaning like an oak tree over a middling stream. He smiled in a way that made Ukitake's hackles rise.

"Yemon, _I need to see him_."

The scribe held out for a breath longer the Jyuushirou would have before waving dismissively and turning back to his records. "Be my guest. It's your neck."

Ukitake stared dumbfounded at the scribe's unnatural treatment of the son of a High Lord; the servants at lowly Ugendo were more respectful if not downright friendly. He nearly missed Shunsui throwing open a hidden door and vanishing from sight. Cursing silently under his breath and sparing a final glare for the wizened little man, Jyuushirou followed.

He emerged into a room blazing with light. Blinking around the sting in his eyes, it took him a moment to adjust to the violent heat and glare emanating from an enormous fireplace to his right. Thoroughly disoriented, Ukitake reached out for something to steady himself…

His hand found an arm. It was rock hard, cold and trembling ever so faintly_. Shunsui….scared?_ The idea was too ridiculous for words, but Ukitake could hardly put another word to it. It took him a full moment to sense even the slightest reiatsu, that's how hard Shunsui was locked down.

Oddly enough, something about that terror centered Jyuushirou; with utter deliberation, he removed his hand and calmed himself, grounding his reiatsu as firmly as he knew how. With everything he had, he backed up Shunsui. That came first. Once Kyouraku's breathing fell into step with his own, Ukitake felt a synergy surge between them. It was only then that the rest of their surroundings came into focus.

They were in a large room, long but uncomfortably narrow so that despite its size it managed to feel stifling. There were only two other beings in the room, at the very far end of a large table, illuminated by a fireplace too far away for its warmth to be felt. A quiet murmuring could be heard through the crackle of flames from the backlit pair, a sound which continued uninterrupted even as the presence of two intruders could not have gone unnoticed.

Long breaths drew in and out. The hushed conversation continued.

Shunsui finally broke away from Jyuushirou, striding down the long hallway in a fair show of the resolution he'd displayed in getting this far. Ukitake followed silently.

It was a long walk. Nothing changed, except for the slow wilting of Shunsui as they neared the figures at the head of the long table set along the center of the room. The man perceptibly shrank within his own skin; why, or how, Ukitake couldn't begin to imagine. He felt Shunsui's resolve diminishing with every footstep, even though he still exuded fury. By the time they neared whispering figures, Shunsui jerked to a halt. He seemed desperately incapable of going further.

Another quiet murmur or two passed, before the taller and broader of the two figures, lit by flickering crimson firelight, deigned to look in their direction. With a sigh, he spoke another word or two and waited for the merest sign of acknowledgment from the other figure before rising and walking in their direction.

The man addressed them in a tone like acid. "What do _you _want?"

Ukitake felt naked derision sear along his spine, and he wasn't even the person directly addressed. Shunsui's flesh rippled perceptibly as he took a deep breath. "I need to talk to you."

"If it's your allowance, see Yemon for that. Forcing your way past him to beg for more whore money is pathetic. You should know that by now." The broad figure stepped closer, and further into the flickering firelight, and Ukitake lost what little breath he had left.

The man was a mirror image of Shunsui. Perceptibly older, but the same handsome features marred only by a long, puckered scar that ran from right hairline to left jaw.

Shunsui's head dipped; it seemed a largely unconscious gesture. His voice took on a pleading tone. "It's important, Akihiko-_sama_…"

"Get another girl knocked up? What does anyone care about your bastards? You shouldn't be wasting my time with this nonsense, much less _him_." The Kyouraku heir's expression of disgust never wavered. "Tell Yemon to keep you out of my hair. Go now, you're interrupting important business." With absolute dismissiveness, Kyouraku Akihiko turned on his heel and strode back towards the fire.

As the Kyouraku heir settled back at his father's side, the quiet murmurings started again. The High Lord Kyouraku, Shunsui's own father, never even looked in their direction.

Ukitake felt about as small as the dirt under his sandals. He could only imagine how Shunsui felt, the recipient of such treatment from his own family.

Shunsui shuddered and seemed to rally. "There are dead people on our land." His voice cut the air, too small in so large a room.

The murmurings continued uninterrupted. It was as if Shunsui hadn't even spoken.

Somehow, Shunsui took a step forward and found a bit more resolve. "People are dead. On _our_ land."

The murmurings halted. Akihiko slowly rose from his chair and circled the end of the table, stalking back towards Ukitake and Shunsui with a terrifying expression. Closing in on the pair, he stepped in close and leaned over a shoulder, placing lips at Shunsui's ear.

"It's father's land, boy. Then mine. Then my future children's." A hand came up to grip Shunsui's shoulder; Ukitake watched the finger tips dig deep so deep Shunsui grunted. Akihiko's whisper turned viperous. "Which means it's none of your concern, and never will be. Go back to your whores and your playthings; your only duty to this clan is to stay out of the way."

Without thinking, Ukitake took a step closer to Shunsui. He tasted raw bile on the back of his tongue. "There are three dozen bodies a hundred paces east of the southron road. Is that not Kyouraku land?"

Silence. Lord Kyouraku continued to ignore them, while Akihiko turned and graced Jyuushirou with a thoroughly unimpressed look. "Some peasants wandered off the path and met their end. It is no less than they deserved for their ignorance."

At that Shunsui whirled about and turned for the exit. "Let's go, Ukitake."

Ukitake ignored him and took another step closer to Akihiko.

"Lesser nobles know their land within inches," Jyuushirou heard himself saying around the drumbeat of pulse in his ears. Somewhere, ocean waves beat against sand. "They would do anything in their power not to dishonor the lands of their betters." Another step forward, even as Shunsui's hand caught his elbow to stop him. The surf roared. "How much more do simple folk fear the boundaries of so high a House?"

Akihiko held his glare, the tiniest hint of amusement brewing in deep-set eyes. "What is your point?"

Lightening crackled; Ukitake barely felt his own death-grip on his sword. "They weren't ignorant. Those peasants were _driven_ onto your lands. Chased, tortured and then murdered."

Akihiko barked a laugh and turned away, uninterested. "Vagrants are beneath our notice."

"Vagrants _steal_. Kill, yes, but their motivation is greed." Conviction turned Ukitake's veins to ice water. "Hollows did this."

Time seemed to stop. Shunsui hissed in a breath behind him. All amusement fled from Akihiko's deepset eyes. "Your…_companion_ has a very active imagination, Shunsui. Those beasts haven't dared to cross our borders in a hundred years."

Shunsui actually growled, and with a massive tug Ukitake found himself hauled bodily out of the room. He fought to go back, to fight, to argue sense. He found it impossible to breathe, and something was pounding in his ears…

A sharp slap across his face snapped Jyuushriou to. Getting a grip, he shook his head and forced his zanpaktou to heel. It was difficult; Sougyo no Kotawari wanted nothing less than to unhinge the walls around them, killing Hollows or blind nobles, either would do... Ukitake took one deep breath, another, and steadied himself. He looked up.

Shunsui towered over him, speechless fury in his eyes. A long moment passed before he pivoted on his heel and stalked away.

"Hey," Ukitake cried, following after him.

"I didn't ask you to do that." Shunsui's entire being radiated anger. He stormed through one hallway after another, a silent avalanche.

"I know, but…" Jyuu found himself at a loss for words. Lightening crackled through his sword, and something in him flared. "You know I'm right. That sort of massacre can only be the work of Hollows…"

"And you know so much about Hollows?" Shunsui snarled. He rounded another corner, his pace increasing.

"What else could it be?" Jyuushirou snapped, annoyed at the faint hint of disdain in Shunsui's own tone. "You and I have first-hand experience with brigands. They wouldn't bother with the kind of slaughter we saw-"

"You _idiot_." Shunsui grabbed Ukitake by the collar and slammed him unceremoniously into a wall. Ukitake gasped, breathing in the stench of Kyouraku's fury. "Are lesser nobles really so stupid? Why would you even mention Hollows at all?" Shunsui wrenched away, launching himself down the dark corridor.

Gasping for breath, Ukitake hurried to keep up, floundering again. "But…I mean…" His mind raced, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Shunsui barely seemed to hear him, muttering almost to himself. "The High Houses haven't seen Hollows in decades. Generations have passed while they wrapped themselves up with their wealth and their pride. The Houses hardly admit Hollows even _exist _anymore."

"The War," Ukitake protested. "Hollows sacked the outer districts barely two decades ago-" Before Yamamoto Genruusai beat them back, nearly single-handedly.

"The _outer_ districts, Jyuush!" Shunsui roared, grabbing his collar again and throwing Ukitake into a side room. Jyuushirou slid, skidded and sprawled across the tiles, whirling around in shock.

Kyouraku stalked closer, hovering over him. "Why do you think the High Nobles hate the Acedemy? Why they hate Yama-jii? All of it, it all represents things in the past. And there's few things nobles hate more than to be recalled to their origins."

None of this made sense. Ukitake's mind whirled. "Shun, s_omeone_ had to stand up for those poor peasants..."

"Someone _will_." Shunsui's growl ripped the air. Without another word, he turned and slammed the door shut.

Ukitake threw himself at it, only to find the bolt turned. "Shunsui, what are you _doing_!"

"What House Kyouraku must, whether it likes it or not. " The words floated thickly through the locked door, followed by retreating footfalls.

Ukitake's heart sank to his very toes. "Shunsui - _tomodachi_!" He knew it was useless, but he pounded the door anyway, clammy forehead pressed to the thick beams. _Gods, Shun. Don't go without me..._

_

* * *

_Shunsui hunted Hollows.

Kyouraku lands were vast, wild and largely unpopulated, covering an entire mountain range and the leagues of forest, glade and tundra surrounding them. Even someone who had grown up in these lands and knew every hill, river and gladelike the back of his hand needed time to cover ground. Even someone with reiatsu needed hours to track the bile-like trail of twisted spirit energy that stank like baneweed but vanished within hours.

Hollows weren't stupid; that was the first mistake people made about them. Aberrations against nature, evil incarnate, without doubt but they were smart. The damned things had could muck up leagues of territory with their nauseating, subliminal stench and still vanish right from under your nose. Only to show up inches from your back, claws ready to open you up like a fatted calf.

Shunsui flitted from one glade to the next, faster than the breeze, his pulse a raging tempest.

_Come to me, you bastards_.

He knew from experience they liked to hunt reiatsu. Prey such as he'd found with Ukitake at dawn only happened when the hellbeasts were bored. Which only made such slaughter on his land that much greater of an insult.

On _his _land. He'd played this game before, when the drinking and the gamboling weren't enough to drown the emptiness of his of his existence, but always he'd sought them out in the wilderness, outside Sereitei. Never here. Never on Kyouraku land. Land he knew better than Akihiko, no matter what he said.

_There_.

Shunsui dove into a gulley, vanished into a thick set of underbrush, and then shunpo'd across the treeline and reappeared with the sun at his back.

The Hollow tore its maw into the thickets where he'd been only moments before, just as Kyouraku's blade bit deep into the crown of its knobby scull.

It screamed as it died. It didn't burst into spirit particles and vanish, though; no, the time for that was still a bit off. Shunsui preferred to see corpses at this point, even though he knew they would have to be purged eventually.

For now, he wanted the blade and the hunt, and death. Nothing more.

A tightly bound pack slung across his shoulders thrummed in torment. Shunsui ignored it.

Instead, he turned his senses back to the wind, sniffing out his next target. It wasn't far off, and it was big. It was also hungry, and bold; the death cry of its minion only drove it to greater blood frenzy.

Shunsui bared is own teeth. Sliding between dimensions, he flew in the creature's direction.

This was one larger than the last, considerably smarter. Kyouraku's attempts to bait it only angered the Hollow, which took a direct hit and stayed on its feet, roaring in fury. Laughing, Shunsui teased his way clear…

And barely ducked an attack, faster than it should have been and armed with razor-sharp claws. Swearing under his breath, Shunsui parried, swung hard…and was a fraction of a second too late coming around.

He found himself flung halfway across the gully, all the breath vanishing from his chest as his slammed unceremoniously into a rock wall. Shunsui's katana shocked free from his stunned wrist and clattered down the rock face, shimmering impotently away.

_Not good_. Shunsui ducked the Hollow's next swipe, barely. The burden across his shoulders throbbed but Shunsui grit his teeth, biding his time.

Time he didn't have; the damn Hollow was angry, smart and _fast_. Kyouraku pulled a few parlor tricks out of his ass using anything he could find – a branch, a sharp rock – and still took a deep gash in his left arm and a substantial hit to his right leg, which sent him tumbling on end down the scattering scree into the bottom of the gully.

His pack came loose and tumbled free; Shunsui shook his head clear in time to see the huge Hollow closing in on him. His hesitation dissolved; he might be stubborn but he was far from suicidal. Rolling clear of the attack by mere inches, he ignored the simple katana paces away and dove instead for the pack he'd retrieved from Kyouraku manor hours ago, just after he'd locked Ukitake away in its depths.

The bundle was lying open, almost as if the contents had freed themselves. Each palm slid into home as swiftly as the sunrise, and Kyouraku whirled. The Hollow froze.

Shunsui held crossed before his eyes twin blades, the likes of which no soul had ever seen. At the same instant, his vibrant zanpaktou's awareness slammed into every inch of Shunsui's spirit body. Even unreleased, Kyouraku's twin blades ramped up his spirit power level to dizzying heights; the Hollow shuddered visibly, hesitating long enough for Shunsui to deal with his sword's initial contact.

_Brother._ Katen Kyokotsu sang, with a glare of fury that nearly felt like delirium_. It has been too long. Restraint doesn't become us._

Shunsui lost no time and launched himself towards the immobile demon before him. _Then let loose_, he enticed, the silent command nearly rattling his skull loose.

It was over in seconds. Kyouraku found himself in the center of a rainstorm of dissolving spirit particles, punctuated by the faint death rattle of the Hollow intermingling with the distinct displeasure of his zanpaktou.

_I am no whore to be seduced into providing services_, Katen Kouyetsu purred, the quiet sound more terrifying than any roar.

Shunsui held still, a faint tremor running up and down his arms as his blades keened through him. He held his eyes tight shut, riding out the ecstasy of everything his soulblade promised, threatened…_desired_.

With great deliberation, Kyouraku summoned a mental picture of the sunrise clearing. The dead bodies. Men. Women. Children.

It was Katen's turn to shiver, ever so slightly. Shunsui calmed as their wills slowly aligned. He pressed his advantage, dashing away in flashes of shunpo before Katen could slip back into his latent self-centeredness.

He had to find more Hollows. Now, while he had the upper hand.

It didn't take long; he might as well have set off flares by taking up Katen Kyokotsu. He skidded to a halt on the very peak of a barren hill, barely catching his balance on the rocky ground. Beneath him, a trio of Hollows rummaged for the split seconds it took them to taste his presence, whirl in his direction.

Shunsui had the high ground. Softly, Shunsui did what had to be done. "_Hana Kaze Midarete Kashin; Haki Tenpuu Midarete Tenma Warau."_

Katen Kyokotsu flexed, seizing his newfound freedom with a thunderclap punctuated by a single word. "_Takaoni_!"

The Hollows beneath him didn't just explode; with a subliminal sonic boom, they evaporated into nothingness. Kyouraku had a single second to register his surprise – not at the attack, but at the ease with which his blades had allowed him a victory – before the backlash of Katen's satisfaction swept over him.

It was stronger than any drug, stronger than sake. Immensely more intoxicating than the loins of a woman. Katen existed to kill like this, and Shunsui was as much as much slave to the orgiastic delirium as he was blademaster. His shikai was a drug that put heroin to shame.

He lost time. He always did.

Something slammed into his shoulder, shattering the reverie. Shunsui tumbled, the realities of pain and battle shocking him back to the danger of the moment. He barely registered the immense roaring in his ears as his feet found ground; digging fingers into turf he threw himself blindly sideways. He flew clear of the Hollow's attack, something large and powerful and crackling with demon magic, but Shunsui was still too numbed to make out his surroundings…and then he was falling.

Blackness swallowed him, an intense sense of vertigo as he plummeted into a crevasse, a tear in the ground nearly obscured by underbrush. He had just enough sense to fire off a burst of illuminating kido. All he saw was ragged, sharp rocks rushing up to meet him. Instinct kicked in; he tucked, shouting out some kind of kido half-chanted.

He hit the rocks hard, but not as hard as he would have from freefall. He lost wind again, but this time held his swords true. Nothing short of death could have pried these pommels from his grasp.

Still, he lay for a long moment of sheer torment, trying to drag air back into his lungs. Absurdly, he wondered what the hell he'd cast, some half-remembered spell droned at him by Ukitake. Whatever it was had probably saved his life. A sharp stab of longing hit Kyouraku; it might have been a mistake to leave the kid behind...

And then regret didn't matter, as he found his breath and stilled, finally taking in his surroundings.

He was at the bottom of a deep ravine, all daylight lost far above him. And there, in the dark, he could feel it. Some kind of Hollow, burrowed in the depths. Not one of the little ones, the type of which he'd been chasing across his lands for hours upon hours. This was mature. It reeked of fury, of evil. And it smelled like the massacre in a dawnlit glade.

Right then, Shunsui nearly went blind with rage. Katen Kyokotsu drank it in and began to laugh. With a peal nearing madness, it cried out a single word.

_Red!_

Shunsui bit back a curse as the rules of this game settled around him like a weight pressing against his skin. At least it wasn't a color he was wearing at the moment. Trying to blink his eyes clear of his adjust to the darkness, Shunsui rode a wave of adrenaline as his battle senses kicked back in. He felt a rush of strength, of power, as if the very air around him was crackling with raw energy.

_Shall we dance, then?_ He asked his blades as he began to smile.

Katen Kyokotsu laughed again, seething with delight. _It would be a shame not to, Brother_.

He attacked first, right behind a flash of _geki_, revealing a spike-headed monstrosity whose mask was streaked with crimson striations. It was fast, evading his first volley. Kyouraku switched tactics, changing direction mid-strike, shifting his weight and bringing his smaller, shorter blade to bear. He just managed to nick a red stripe, and the Hollow screamed.

Pain blossomed, and Kyouraku very nearly screamed as well. His legs buckeled; he knew this sensation. He was sharing the cost of hitting the right color. _What the fuck- I'm not wearing any red! _Infuriated, he wiped more sweat out of his eyes…

And froze. A faint sheen of light from above caught his sleeve, and the dark smear across his wrist. It wasn't sweat dripping into his eyes. Shunsui stared at the crimson blood, fingertips searching until he found the long, shallow gash across his forehead. Katen Kyokotsu began to cackle, and Shunsui contemplated the very real risk that he just might kill himself finishing the Hollow.

_The game just got interesting_, he thought, and without further consideration for his own mortality, Kyouraku threw himself back into the fray.

He didn't know how long he fought. There seemed to be no end to the agony, no end to the mind-numbing roars and flashing claws of his adversary. He fells as often as the Hollow did, reeling from the backlash of every strike that hit true. It was dark in the cavernous depth of the earth, but Shunsui was didn't care. Dark was just another color. That was a common misconception about the dark; people thought it was just black without gradation.

Shunsui knew otherwise. He knew there was no end to the variation nothingness could take.

He wondered if death had a color.

Hours passed. Kyouraku couldn't get find upper hand; the Hollow was strong, and every decisive blow Shunsui managed to land nearly cost him his sanity in agony. His blade never tired but, slowly and surely, Kyouraku did.

Shunsui grit his teeth and kept swinging, although he spared a moment of disgust at his blades. _You and your stupid games that can't be won. Are you _trying _to kill me?_ he snarled, barely avoiding a Hollow's claws the size of scimitars.

Katen regarded him darkly. _You lock me up for years at a time. Is that not a kind of death, for one of my kind_?

Kyouraku stifled a curse and stumbled out of the way of a gaping maw. The Hollow loomed close, deep purple in the wan light. Gasping for breath, he ducked and evaded, losing ground. _Well, unless you want to sit at the bottom of this shithole watching my body rot for the next millennium, HELP me_!

Katen Koyetsu suddenly sounded immensely sad. _That I cannot do, Brother_.

The sword slipped away into silence. Lifelessness. Kyouraku regarded it for a confused second before he slowly and methodically cursed a blue streak.

Hollow scream surrounded him. He knew a single moment of sheer terror as he realized that he had no fucking clue how to get himself out of this one. Swiping blind with a dead zanpaktou, Shunsui swung upwards with both hands, with both blades. Something connected, and then there was a flash of white. Pain blazed and Shunsui knew nothing more.

* * *

Kyouraku awoke, to his ever-living shock. A fire crackled nearby, the woodsy scent of a campfire permeating the air as the second son of House Kyouraku drank in the simple pleasure of breathing in and out.

When he finally opened his eyes, he was hardly surprised to register a companion brooding close by.

He was, however, rather annoyed. "What are _you _doing here?"

The pale form ignored Shunsui's ire, continuing to stare at the fire, hunched on a nearby tree stump. "Watching you practically kill yourself."

Shunsui managed a snort. _Gods_, he felt cold. With herculean effort, he pressed himself up from the forest floor into a half-sit and scooted closer to the fire. He shivered violently, once. "I asked you to stay behind."

A dark eyebrow arched, meeting shockingly white bangs. Hazel eyes reflected an odd coldness in the firelight. "Asked? You locked me in a closet."

"It was a _library_," Shunsui husked, shifting forward an inch. He couldn't get warm. "You had scrolls and shit to read. How did you get outta there, anyway?"

Ukitake snorted back, an oddly unrefined sound. He shot Kyourakyu a single, withering glance. "A _door_ is supposed to stop me, when my best friend is endangering himself?"

A snide retort died in Shunsui's throat, and not from the qualification of familiarity. Not at all. "Kyouraku matters are mine to handle." He felt stupid the moment the words were out, but Ukitake said nothing. Somehow, that made Shunsui's shame burrow deeper. He lashed out, halfheartedly. "It was my fight, Jyuushirou. I don't need rescuing."

"I _didn't_ rescue you." Ukitake replied softly, large eyes searching the flames. Wide, slender hands slid up his forearms as he hunched closer. His voice was strained. "I watched. I stood by and watched you kill them all. If you fell with that last strike and needed someone to haul you back up to the forest….well, the fight was over. I didn't interfere."

A long time passed, punctuated by the crackling of the flame. Shunsui felt his blades lying nearby but had no desire to reach for them. He thought of a moment, lying at the bottom of the gulle, when a wave of reiatsu had gotten him back on his feet; so, Ukitake wasn't being completely honest. Something pooled deep within Kyouraku's chest. The stars passed over head, and words continued to fail him. He watched the flames.

"How long have you had it?"

The quiet question nearly set Kyouraku out of his skin, although he hoped it didn't show. He let his eyelids slide shut, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. "Had what?" he asked hollowly.

"Your _shikai_." Ukitake stirred the fire; Shunsui could feel those gray-green eyes boring right through the flames into his skull.

He was too tired to feign. Shunsui sighed, a quick, exhausted sound. "You saw my brother's face. The scar?" He felt more than saw Jyuushirou's nod, his rapt attention. The words came almost too easily. "We used to train together, as boys. Father valued strength. Pit son against son, and one of them becomes stronger." His throat tightened, but still the words wouldn't stop coming. "Well, it worked. For Akihiko anyway, but he was the first born, and he didn't kill our mother by being born…" Shunsui's teeth clacked shut; words were agony, so why couldn't he stop talking? "So I guess that's as it should be. It's my fault father had no more sons, so the least I could do was help his firstborn become the man he was supposed to be, right? " Brown eyes opened, boring into the flames. "We were training; Akihiko could be relentless, cruel even. Something just..snapped. I hardly knew what was happening. No one had wielded a zanpaktou in our family for generations…I was 12, I think." He thought he felt a hand gripping his shoulder, but Shunsui just wrapped himself tighter, unable to look away from the blaze of the fire. "I killed my father's wife, and nearly took his firstborn son's head off." A harsh sound rattled in his throat, a wizened mockery of a laugh. "He hasn't talked to me much since then." With a violent shake, Shunsui pulled himself together, drawing a hand across his cheeks and trying to ignore the wetness there. The grip on his shoulder retreated gracefully, as if it had never been there. The warmth of it lingered.

Ukitake gave him time to compose himself. It took a while, passed in an oddly comfortable, taut silence. Shunsui's throat ached for a cup of sake.

"How do you stand it?"

The question was asked with such blithe curiosity, Shunsui found his head raising to meet openly questioning hazel eyes. He searched Ukitake's face for judgment and found none. Something deep within him relaxed.

Shunsui shrugged. "I keep 'em locked up in my rooms most of the time."

Ukitake shook his head slowly. "I can barely keep myself sensate half the time, and I've only known my sword for a couple of months. You've kept yours hidden for years…" He trailed off, exuding a faint sense of awe.

Kyouraku smiled wanly, face twisting into a semblance of his most charming smile. "Being drunk helps." The expression died, prematurely twisting into a frown. "You're not going to tell anyone." The statement curled up at the edges, almost forming a question.

Ukitake's chest heaved, sending a shock of concern through Shunsui before he recognized it as a deep, quiet chuckle. "Shunsui, I'm the last person you have to worry about."

Kyouraku grimaced. "Well, Moon-Beam would surely cluck like a worried hen. Actually, that might not be so bad. Maybe I can convince her to give me a physical…"

This time Jyuushirou's amusement broke free, a light laugh filling the fire lit clearing. With a graceful movement, he slid off the stump into the soft grass, close enough to the flame to stay illuminated without getting too near the occasional floating spark. The sound continued for long moments as the slender boy settled in for a rest, the long shadows of night pulling the shroud of fatigue tightly around them.

The lingering mirth became faintly annoying. Shunsui growled without much heat. "What the hell are you laughing at, albino?"

"I was just thinking," Jyuushirou muttered, words thick around a yawn. "Training with you is about to get a _lot_ more interesting…"

Shunsui waited for more, something warm spreading through his chest, but heard only the lightest of snores. For a long while, he watched the stars wheel overhead, his own eyes drooping as he found a comfortable place in the thick grass of the campsite. By the time he drifted off to sleep, he was chuckling too.


	15. The Doctor Weighs In

Unohana loved the first day of school. There was something electrifying about that time of year when the breezes carried the first bite of cooler weather and the angle of the sun changed just enough to herald the fall months to come. Seasons were not the same here in Soul Society as in the real world – the one being something of a reflection of the other – but the indomitable shifts in weather still gave spirit beings a sense of time passing, years wheeling out in stately patterns. Retsu didn't know if it was an odd quirk of this dimension or a gift of the Spirit King to offer such familiarity to human souls, but a deep, still part of her found it soothing. Seasons allowed for change, for anticipation, and in a state of existence that could theoretically last millennium, one needed all the excitement one could get.

Which was why First Day was one of her favorites. While the motif was always the same – eager new students juggling terror and anticipation, returning students rekindling friendships and carrying the weight of expectation and loads of academic burden all too familiar by now – it always played out in endless variation. It was her custom to settle herself in the main courtyard on a small bench that boasted not only the best view of the Academy gates, but also enough well-manicured foliage to allow plenty of privacy. Here Retsu would perch and watch as the students filed in.

This was more than a passing fancy. Unohana had a certain knack of sensation, of feeling out people and places and situations, that came in very useful at the oddest times. It had become something of a personal duty of hers to observe the incoming student body. For over a dozen years now, she had gotten very accurate impressions on what a single school year might hold in store and had yet to go wrong.

This ability was one of the many reasons why Yamamoto-sensei had not graduated her yet, not that Retsu minded. She had her own reasons for staying in the Academy as long as she had, for hiding skills that easily eclipsed nearly any other student in Shinoreijutsuin, and it pleased her to be useful. Retsu got to enjoy the stature of a student 'upperclassman' – albeit an uncannily talented one – while contributing to the Academy and its operations in more ways than anyone could imagine.

Still, this year Unohana was hard-pressed to remember a year before this where her excitement had been greater. It was very nearly a struggle to keep still on her little seat as student after student made their entrance and the day wore on. _Patience_, she reminded herself, silently recalling that delay was only to be expected given the target of her eagerness. Still, who could blame her? Things unprecedented were by nature exiting, and even the intensely demure and introverted Unohana Retsu could not be immune to such anticipation.

It was well past morning before they made their appearance and when they did, their combined reiatsu brought the entire courtyard to a halt.

Ukitake Jyuushirou and Kyouraku Shunsui were engaged in some kind of heated debate that involved raised voices and wild arm gestures, and naturally took no notice of the effect they were having on the students around them who were trying not to gape. It was impossible to tell exactly what the pair was arguing about or who was winning. At one point, Kyouraku made a motion that was decidedly lewd, which just knit

Ukitake's eyebrows closer together and increased the fervor of his counter-argument. Despite their differences in stride, he still managed to walk in step with Kyouraku as they crossed the courtyard not far from where Unohana sat secluded.

Retsu finally allowed herself a small smile. _Let's see what you boys have accomplished over the summer_, she thought and silently let out a whip-crack of reiatsu. It was small but fast as quicksilver and stunningly powerful...and completely harmless, although it sure wouldn't feel that way.

The argument cut off instantly as the boys swung together in a single motion. Shunsui moved an extra step in around Ukitake's right shoulder, into a defensive position that would also cover for anyone approaching from the rear. Ukitake stilled, green eyes sharp as lasers, his posture deceptively calm. Only a trained eye would note that his balance had shifted to the balls of his feet and while hand was not on hilt, his pommel was suddenly free. Unohana had no doubt his sword would bare as quickly as Kyouraku's if needed.

But even that much told barely half the story. The amount of reiatsu that suddenly swelled around the pair was enough to catch Retsu's breath in her throat. It took considerable control on her part to contain her surprise; she'd expected much, but the power increase these souls had accomplished in a mere couple of months was staggering. _Is it just because they are together? What kind of power does each boast by himself?_ her scientific mind raced. Outwardly, Unohana allowed her smile to widen and rose gracefully to her feet.

"There now, is that any way to greet an old friend?" she chided lightly, leaving her perch and gliding towards her favorite classmates.

Instantly the reiatsu abated, accompanied by a pretty blush on Ukitake's cheeks. "Sorry, Unohana-kun. You caught us by surprise."

"You certainly did, you cruel, beautiful creature!" Shunsui wailed, expression changing from deadly to chagrined in the blink of an eye. "I'm not even wearing my Academy robes yet. Women love a man in uniform. However am I to woo you looking like an ordinary civilian?" Tears brimmed in enormous, russet eyes.

Ukitake rolled his, a practiced gesture by now. "As if what you're wearing isn't worth half a kingdom," he quipped, sending Kyouraku into a fit of spluttering and protesting as he patted his gleaming silken robes. Ignoring a comment on how clothes make a man, Jyuushirou smiled brightly. "How are you, Retsu-san? We didn't even see you in there. Watching the new students?"

"New and old alike," Unohana confirmed, falling into step as they made their way further onto school grounds, treading familiar pathways. "You boys make quite an entrance, I must say."

Ukitake looked flummoxed. "We do?" He sounded utterly lost as to a reason.

Kyouraku suffered no such shortage of ego. "Ah, such things can't be helped. Being so handsome is a burden, but I'll be sure to leave a few heart-sick freshmen for you to play with, Jyuu." He got a hearty poke in the ribs for his generosity.

"Well, it may not be the attention you'd hoped to garner, but I have a request from Yamamoto-dono for you to appear in his office when you arrive," Retsu said, delivering her first of two important summons.

Ukitake snorted at Kyouraku's sudden frown. "Expelled already?"

"Hopefully," Shunsui returned cheerfully, recovering well. "Come on pretty boy, let's get this over with."

"_Just_ you," Unohana emphasized firmly before giving Ukitake a tiny smile to ease the sting.

Jyuushirou fielded the exclusion with all grace. "Definitely expelled, then." With a wink, he offered Retsu his arm. "Can I walk you to your rooms?"

Kyouraku's minute glare encompassed them both. "So easily am I forgotten," he pouted. With a dramatic flourish and sniff, Shunsui turned on his heel and tottered in the direction of the administrative buildings, whistling a jaunty tune.

Ukitake watched him depart, chuckling softly. "What's Yamamoto-dono want with him already?"

"I have no idea," Unohana lied. "Are you looking forward to your classes this year?"

"Immensely," Ukitake replied, pinking faintly. "I asked for as many classes as possible that you were assisting, so I hope you're covering interesting topics..."

They chattered on for a while about their upcoming class schedules when, without warning, Unohana suddenly lost her footing and slipped.

"Whoops!" Jyuushirou shot out a hand to grab hers, steadying her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you," Retsu replied with a sheepish giggle. "I must have stepped wrong."

"Odd, that. You're hardly ungraceful." Jyuushirou regarded her with concerned eyes.

Unohana laughed lightly. "Well, it's a good thing I had you around for my one mis-step. Those were pretty fast reflexes."

"Ahh...yeah," Ukitake stammered, rubbing the back of his head self-consciously. "Kyouraku-san and I have been...practicing. Sort of."

_'Sort of', indeed_, Retsu thought to herself, mind reeling at what that momentary skin-on-skin contact - and the quick medical delve she'd executed while Ukitake was righting her - had revealed. _You're strong as an ox. How'd you manage that, with the _

_illness...?_ Eye sparkling knowingly, she spoke softly. "Which reminds me, forgive my absent-mindedness, but Yamamoto-dono wanted to speak with you as well. Once Kyouraku-san was finished."

"Really?" Ukitake's frown reflected a momentary suspicion; Retsu just smiled back so benignly that any accusation of collusion would have seemed sacrosanct. "Uh, ok then. I should head right over there, I suppose. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Quite," Unohana confirmed, dipping her head slightly as he returned her gesture and strode off. He didn't turn back once to look over his shoulder; had he, Ukitake would have seen Retsu regarding his retreating form thoughtfully.

_Yamamoto-san, you're going to have your hands full with these two_, Retsu smirked to herself before heading towards the nearest garden to bide her time, humming softly.

She didn't have to wait long. Still, she took her time meandering past the koi ponds before she made her way towards Yamamoto's office. She didn't bother knocking; Genruusai's sense of reiatsu was scathingly accurate. Knowing she was expected, Retsu silently opened the door and peeked her head in.

Enormous eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness within. "How did it go?"

A perturbed grunt from somewhere in the gloom. "The one's furious and the other confused. Couldn't get a solid answer out of either of them."

She could have told him that, but Retsu wisely didn't say a word. She knew all too well that Genruusai would believe nothing he hadn't seen with his own eyes.

Patiently, she waited until another grunt, more reluctant this time, broke the silence.  
"Go see what you can do with them." It was as close to admitting failure as Yamamoto would ever come. Retsu was certain something would be demolished in short time as a result.

Making sure it wasn't _her_, Unohana bowed and slipped away, letting the door shut behind her. Smiling to herself, she took off in the direction of student housing, planning her approach most carefully. The trick would be getting two her two incredibly perceptive friends to believe that the decision they had to make was one of their own choosing. Homing in on the correct room, Retsu perched herself just outside the shoji screens and waited. Or rather, listened in. It was hardly an intrusion of privacy, considering at least one of the occupants was shouting at the top of his lungs.

"He's completely out of his fucking mind!" Shunsui, clearly. A soft murmur followed and failed to tame the shouting noble. "Oh please, like that has anything to do with it. This is a game and he's playing us like idiot pawns-" Another murmur, less soft, cut into the tirade for a long moment to the backbeat of pacing feet. "Jyuu, don't give me that shit, you aren't a High House, you don't know how these things work."

This time there was just silence. The footfalls paced for a moment longer before they halted. "Oh wipe that look off your face, you know I didn't mean it like tha-"

A sudden shush cut the heated exchange short. Retsu fixed a tiny smile on her face just in time for the shoji screen to swoop open.

Hazel eyes met hers with ostensible warmth that failed to hide the troubled murk brewing behind them. "Listening at doors? That's not like you." Ukitake greeted, a half-hearted attempt at a crooked smile painted awkwardly on his face.

Unohana offered a tiny bow of apology. "It didn't seem polite to interrupt."

"Oh no, _please_ join us. You're not gonna believe the shit High Bloody Gawd-Almighty Yamamoto is trying to pull now." A clearly agitated Kyouraku resumed his pacing inside the modest space allowed for a student's private room. He took a long pull at some kind of jug while muttering darkly to himself.

Ukitake had the grace to flush faintly. "Please," he murmured, gesturing Retsu into his cramped quarters and looking apologetic at his friend's manner.

Retsu nodded her head and slipped into the room, selecting a perch on the very corner of Ukitake's pallet - the only furniture in the room - and trying to look prim. Calmly, she looked from one boy to the next and waited.

Kyouraku, wearing a groove into the tatamis, took another swig and proffered the jug. Retsu smiled and accepted the drink, taking a tiny sip while Ukitake groaned and dropped his forehead into his hands. Delicately, Unohana patted her lips dry and passed the jug along to her mortified host. "Is something the matter?"

Shunsui stopped mid-stride and swung around to glare at her. "Yeah, you could say that." He yanked the jug out of Ukitake's hand while the pale boy was mid-gulp and took a sloppy sip of his own. "The bastard is trying to graduate us."

Feigning surprise, Unohana allowed an eyebrow to rise. "Graduate you?" She repeated carefully, turning to regard Jyuushirou. "That is a bad thing?"

Kyouraku snorted violently while Ukitake hastened to clarify. "Well, sort of. He'll graduate us, but only-" a nervous glance to Shunsui - "if we agree to enter the Gotei."  
Dark eyebrows climbed higher; that last part was news to her.

"So, if you agree to be soldiers you'll no longer have to be students," Retsu parroted; this time surprise wasn't hard to feign as her mind raced through the implications. This was completely unprecedented.

"Exactly!" Kyouraku erupted, his face a thundercloud. "First he pretends like he's going to free us from this joke of an education, and then oh _wait_ – only if we agree to take orders like a freaking _commoner_." Shunsui spat copiously.

Ukitake's eyes furrowed, his face clouded with introspection. "Shun, please don't soil the floors. It's not going to help anything."

Retsu deflected a sharp retort from Kyouraku, choosing her words carefully. "It's my understanding that a career as a soldier is an honorable one. You'd have more freedom, wouldn't you? Two suddenly intense gazes on her made Unohana fear she'd said too much. She demurred. "I mean, more than a lowly student, anyway."

Ukitake stirred first. "Yes, I suppose so..."

"_Bullshit_," Kyouraku snarled with vehemence. "Better to be a slave than a soldier. A slave only has to do what they're told; a soldier has to fucking _die_ on someone else's say-so!"

"That's not entirely fair," Ukitake replied with quiet dignity. "Soldiers also protect the helpless. People who can't defend themselves against danger. Against Hollows, for example." Something in the way his eyes met Shunsui's carried especial weight. It certainly made Kyouraku pause, his mouth twisting as if something unsavory was on his tongue.

"Nobles can do that too. Without being lackeys," he returned with heat. Something passed between him and Ukitake.

The paler man held the gaze relentlessly. "Can, yes. But do they?"

Retsu thought Kyouraku's temper was going to boil over on the spot. Instead, a long moment passed while he seemed to wrestle with himself. "And what good would it do to be a soldier? Don't you like studying?"

Ukitake blushed, as if a point had been scored. His gaze turned thoughtful again. "Of course I do. I can hardly imagine passing on such an education…"

"_Well_ then!" Shunsui crowed triumphantly. He took a swig from the jug.

"But what would be the point of book-learning if it doesn't help people who need it?" Ukitake finished a moment later. He met Shunsui's eyes again, shaking his head slowly. "There would be no honor in that."

Shunsui slumped against a wall, crossing his arms petulantly, a sharp retort momentarily absent. For a long beat he sulked. "So, you'd rather give up all this just to say 'yes, sir', 'no, sir', 'aye aye, sir' to the fuckin' Gotei?"

Ukitake's own gaze hardened. "I don't know that it would be giving up, exactly. I could still study in my free time, I would imagine."

"Yeah, like whenever you were in Fourth. What makes you even think you could _be_ a soldier, Wheezy?"

A terrible silence followed, during which Ukitake seemed to expand while Kyouraku slowly shrank under the weight of his thoughtlessness.

"You've never thrown that in my face before," Ukitake finally rasped, his expression livid. "All this summer we've trained and you've never once treated me like an invalid. Now you pull that shit on me, just to mask your cowardice?"

Kyouraku staggered to his feet, fists clenched. "You call me a _coward_?"

"What else would you call it?" Ukitake snapped back, his own hands fisting on the bedsheets. "Don't even pretend you'd rather stay a student for one second longer than you have to. Are you so afraid to take an opportunity to actually _do_ something with your life?"

"He's offered to graduate me, too." The words flowed out of her before Unohana could think, so focused was she on deflecting the friction in the room before someone actually got hurt.

It worked. The seething tension shifted seamlessly into shock while both men swung around to regard her with wide eyes. Retsu subsumed a moment of panic; Genruusai would _not_ be pleased to hear about this gambit. Which meant there was nothing left but to play it to the hilt. She regarded Ukitake and Shunsui guilelessly and forced herself to calm.

Ukitake found his tongue first. "What did you say?" he gaped. Kyouraku smoldered silently behind him.

"I said yes." Her hushed tone might have been taken for solemnity; in true, Retsu felt breathless at the path to which she's now irrevocably committed herself. Not that she minded being part of the Gotei – it had always been in the plan for her to promote eventually, when the charade of student could no longer be sustained – but it was certainly not intended to be so soon.

"Why in the hell would you do that?" Kyouraku wailed, flailing his arms in abject misery. He downed the remains of the jug and sulked indulgently.

Meeting his eyes with unmistakable earnestness, Retsu spoke with soft conviction. "Because I'm needed there. The Academy is vital, but it is nothing more than a precursor. The world we know would not exist unless there are those who believe in it, willing to protect it at all costs. And," She did turn, then, and met troubled hazel eyes. "Because I have no family or clan to consult." Jyuushirou held her gaze for a long, long moment before sighing and glancing at Shunsui.

Kyouraku blew out a wordless snarl and flung himself back against the window frame, glaring at them equally. "You're both idiots."

"I haven't decided anything," Ukitake protested uncomfortably.

Kyouraku smirked. "Yes, you have." He turned his glare on Unohana, who held his gaze steadily. She smiled ever so faintly.

Meanwhile, Ukitake shook his head almost to himself, oblivious. "I have to talk to my family first. I'm eldest, I can't just go around making life decisions without talking to them first."

Shunsui shifted, looked at his friend. After a moment, he snorted. "Mine wouldn't care one way or another." He raised his jug to lips, realized it was empty, and then snarled and let it drop to the floor. His glower lost heat.

"Well then, I guess you're lucky," Ukitake noted with careful dignity, although he refused to meet Shunsui's eyes. Juushirou thought long and hard for a minute.

"Whatever their concerns, they'll tell me to choose what I feel is right."

"And I won't?" Shunsui barked, looking belligerent.

Ukitake did nothing more than raise his eyes to meet Kyouraku's. A long silence waxed and waned.

Kyouraku turned back to the window, jug forgotten. He leaned half outside the window, gazing up at the faint stars above. "Bah, leave it up to you two and the whole world is full of daisies and sunshine. Just go save everyone and anything for no other reason than the greater good, eh?" He spat loudly, this time on the ground outside.

The corners of Ukitake's lips twitched, his gaze shifting somewhere distant. "You say that as if it's a bad thing." He leaned back on his pallet, long spine resting against the wall.

"Isn't it?" Shunsui sneered, still peering outside and fidgeting. "At least we have until tomorrow. Nothing's been decided yet."

Ukitake's gaze remained distant although the corners of his lips twitched upward. "Yes, it has," he murmured almost to himself.

Unohana left them there, just like that. Silently, she slipped out of the room, making it past the barracks and to the paths that lead through the gardens and beyond them, to the admin buildings. It was only then that she let her smile loose; it played across her face like moonbeams reflected off the ripples of the koi ponds she drifted past. Ignoring the administrative buildings, she moved further into the western recesses of the complex, to the private quarters no soul in their right mind would visit uninvited, and even then they'd think twice.

Practically skipping, Unohana drifted onto the raised patio outside a low, sprawling building and eased herself silently through the front door. The room beyond was dim, lit only by a fire burning low in the center of the room. She moved to the tiny but well-appointed kitchen on the far side of the space, retrieving a tea pot and leaves with practiced familiarity.

"Well?" The low grumble rolled through the room and across her skin, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Retsu filled the pot before turning towards the glowing embers. She slipped across the tatamis and set the pot upon the heat before answering.

"They'll agree." Unohana kneeled gracefully to wait for the water to boil.

Dark eyes watched her with scalding heat, hotter than the fire before which she knelt. "You're certain?"

Retsu just smiled.

A faint grunt. "They'll be trouble. The High Noble-"

"Shunsui-san," Unohana interjected firmly. The voice rattled on as if it hadn't heard.

"-will fight every figure of authority every inch of the way. The pale one-"

"Jyuushirou-san," Retsu lilted, aware she would be likewise ignored.

"-is just as likely to cough on a Hollow as kill one." A dissatisfied growl punctuated the pessimistic evaluation.

Unohana shook her head slowly. "They're both stronger than you think. Don't doubt your instincts; you know they're meant for greatness. Give them time to discover it for themselves."

"Humpf," Genruusai grunted but made no further move to argue. For a long time, the embers crackled and popped.

Finally, the tea boiled. As Retsu went about setting the tea to steep, a soft statement of wonder crossed the room.

"I'll never figure out how the hell you do that; make what needs to happen _happen_."

"You could say I learned from the best." Unohana smiled, this time to herself, and returning with two steaming masa cups, settled at the fireside once more. Yamamoto stirred as if to speak again, but she forestalled him.

"Drink your tea, Yamamoto-san, and be quiet."


	16. The First Mission, Part 1

"I always wondered about that." Ukitake Jyuushirou's voice, uncharacteristically tinged with the faint ring of betrayal, broke into the cadence of Unohana Retsu's recitation. "I mean, naturally we made the right decision, but for some reason it always felt like it had come a little too easily..."

"Easily?" interjected Retsu with no small amount of delicate affront. "I'll have you appreciate the lengths to which I went to help you see the obvious. Remember, I had to graduate, too." She made that seem a great inconvenience.

"Played." Kyouraku Shunsui, the very picture of aggrieved, hunched balefully over his sake. "Manipulated, _used_. Moved like mere pawns in the cruel games of fate..."

"_Do_ try to be more dramatic," Ukitake muttered, rolling his eyes. Surreptitiously, he reached to refill his own empty masa despite the faintly glazed look in his eyes.

"Well, what would you call such an egregious violation of free will?" Shunsui wailed. "Here we were, young stallions at the peak of our physical and sexual prowess - " Ukitake snorted, loudly, " - and we were _shanghaied_ against our will to join a military cause no one believed in!"

A fine line appeared between Ukitake's eyes. "I wouldn't say that," he replied, his voice cooling with wry irony. "I seem to remember a certain reckless young noble charging through the woods on personal Hollow-chasing quests."

Shunsui glared at him, a look that was returned with interest. He grunted. "Well, no one else believed in it." Ukitake sniffed. "No one besides you and me." Pointed silence. "FINE! No one besides you and me and Retsu. And the old man." Someone tittered. "No one that _mattered_!" Kyouraku hollared.

By this time even Ukitake was having a hard time keeping a straight face. "I like _that_. No one that mattered." He set to smoothing a minuscule wrinkle in his robes.

An errant giggle definitely broke free, although it was impossible to tell who'd slipped as everyone was deeper in their cups than advisable. Kyouraku sighed the sigh of the much-beleaguered and deflated a little. "Ok, let me give you children," he emphasized the word, shooting a extra-long glance at Ukitake, "a little history lesson. See, back in the day, the Gotei was much different than the one you see today. It was smaller, for one thing-"

"Only four Squads," Ukitake confirmed. "Three battle regiments and one for healing."

Retsu smirked in her gentle, Mona-Lisa way. "If you could call it that. Including myself, there were barely half a dozen shinigami dedicated to something other than sticking swords into things."

"Yes, but my point is," Shunsui continued, exuding irritation at being interrupted. "There was much debate as to what the squads-"

"The combat ones." Ukitake shrank at Shunsui's glare.

"-what the _combat_ squads were supposed to do," Kyouraku finally finished.

"Uhm, let me guess - combat?" Rukia giggled, an alarming flush painting her cheeks. She tittered again, reaching for a sake bottle that had just been snagged by Matsumoto, who was sitting right next to her and monitoring her alcohol intake. She was doing a less than stellar job so far.

"Ah yes, but fight _what_ exactly?" Ukitake neatly stepped in and spared his subordinate. His voice pitched itself to the cadence he often took when teaching. "The Hollows were vanquished for the first time in the memory of even the ancients, and success made some greedy. The highest Houses wanted to return to the old ways; each clan holding their own armies of shinigami and protecting their own interests. Those nobles who had relinquished their isolated power in order to join forces with Yamamoto-dono - whether they wanted to or not - now began to look at the Academy and the sustaining army Yamamoto was building with concern. A growing army of strong shinigami, trained and educated and - some feared - loyal to Yamamoto-sutaicho above House and Clan was not what they'd had in mind, even if it brought peace."

Matsumoto's eyebrows drew together. "But, that's part of the Oath. 'Forsaking House and Clan and pledging my soul's life and even death to the Gotei and the protection of Soul Society-'" Other younger shinigami were nodding; there wasn't a shinigami in the Gotei who couldn't recite the Oath as easily as breathing.

Ukitake's eyebrow twitched upwards. "My dear, how long do you think it took to develop that oath?" That gave everyone pause. "You can't imagine the maneuvering it took for Yamamoto-sutaicho to force the Clans to surrender clansmen to an army that demanded absolute obedience above blood lines. An army _they_ couldn't control." White hair swished as Jyuushirou shook his head slowly, underscoring the intensity of his words. "Creating the Gotei as a result of defeating Hollows and providing Soul Society with a measure of peace and security was one thing; getting the clans to relinquish that power indefinitely was a hard-fought political battle for centuries. Gaining power is never as difficult as keeping it."

Wide eyes circled the room. "I never thought about that," Matsumoto muttered. She looked a little out of depth; less from the sake and rather more from being of common stock herself. Rukia seemed to be nodding faintly; she'd had enough time in a High House to grasp something of Ukitake's words. Then she hiccoughed and ruined the moment.

"Yeah, well, that was always one of the Old Man's talents, wasn't it?" Shunsui yawned expansively and got unsteadily to his feet, scratching himself inelegantly. "Getting people to do things his way and thinking all the while it was their own idea." The rest was lost in a good-natured grumble as he ambled out of his rooms, ostensibly to relieve himself again.

Retsu murmured something into her teacup as she took a dainty sip and shared a knowing glance with Jyuushirou.

The latter chuckled self-consciously. "As if he's one to talk. If ever there was someone who could rebel against anyone - even Yama-jii - it was Kyouraku..."

* * *

Ukitake Jyuushirou, 14th Seat in the First Squad of the Gotei, stepped from squad headquarters into the first breeze of autumn. The weakest of leaves were already tumbling colorfully across the lawns as he shouldered his pack and closed the shoji behind him firmly against the chill, tugging his own obi snug tight. The air was charged with the change of season, and more; there was a certain air of excitement in the squad.

_I wonder what's happening now_, Jyuushirou thought grimly. He may have earned seating, but Ukitake often felt somewhat removed from the goings-on of his squad due to the fact that more often than not, he was relegated to office duties. He tried not to mind that he was the only low-level Seat required to do paperwork in the administrative building instead of some of the more rigorous training sessions. In truth, Yamamoto-dono didn't outright deny Ukitake any of the training available to First Squad - in keeping with his promise to show no favoritism - but if some classes were impossible to squeeze in between his bookkeeping duties, then it may just as well have been happenstance.

Besides, even Jyuushirou had to admit he had a knack for paperwork and numbers and records and if he chafed at the unphysical duties required of him, he had only to spend one shift undoing the hackneyed filing of his squad mates to realize that he couldn't have everything. The Gotei was still building its forces - of the four, not a one boasted more than 30 shinigami at a time - and the Captains had to make best use of their subordinates strengths, combat or otherwise.

He could always sneak off and train with Kyouraku anyway, when he began to get frustrated or worried that he might be falling behind. An afternoon with Shunsui was more rigorous than any training session First squad could offer, save a session with sutaicho himself.

"Shake a leg, Ukitake-san!" One of his squad mates rushed by, an unseated young man with ruddy skin and jet black hair almost to his waist. Jyushirou often wondered how anyone could fight with hair so long.

"What's the hubbub about, Ashori-san?" Jyuushirou called after the man, whose gait never slowed.

"Discipline." Ashori-san shot the reply over his shoulder as he skidded around a corner and out of sight.

_Not again_. Instantly Ukitake's mood was soured. Spurred nonetheless, he grasped his bag tighter and fell into a trot. Disciplinary displays were mandatory, and by nature meant someone was going to be punished by a perturbed higher Seat. Since Seats were not ones to piss off, it wouldn't do to make them wait for their audience.

_It was trip to Rukongai last week, I just knew someone would talk. Or maybe the snakes in the bathhouse pools._.. Ukitake grimaced, increasing his pace as others began to fall in around him. Ukitake's stomach filled with lead as he ran a mental checklist of recent pranks. _Don't tell me they found the wasabi in the skin cream._ Ukitake's thoughts ground to a halt along with his feet as they reached the square and he saw exactly what he'd been expecting.

On a slightly raised dais stood the first three Seats, ringing a kneeling figure who still managed to exude a completely unrepentant aire. Kyouraku caught his eye and waved, his face splitting into a grin. He may as well have been preparing to play a round of Kiss the Girls.

Ukitake met his look grimly and gave his head the tiniest of shakes. Kyouraku saw it and just grinned wider. Ukitake sighed and fell in with the rest of the squad as they closed in around the spectacle. Fourth Seat Atani stepped forward once they had all dropped into seiza, eyes pinned respectfully on the flagstones.

"You all know why we are here," she began, her almond-shaped eyes flashing. _Yes. We've been through this a dozen times since Yamamoto-dono placed us in this squad_. Ukitake sighed; he could have quoted the rest from memory. "The Gotei is an elite team of brothers. The best of the best, united against the worst of Soul Society." Ukitake thought he heard a yawn. _Oh gods, Shun! Quit egging her on._ A grunt, then Atani continued, her voice a tight with barely-contained anger. "It is only the bonds of greatness, of power, of respect that keep us from turning into the animals we hunt." Ukitake's nose itched. _Laying it on a bit thick today_, he noted.

"And yet one of our brothers refuses to rise up from the gutters of his baser being and stand with his betters." Third's voice broke in; Ukitake's breath caught. Where Atani was fire and fury, Shoshonin-san was ice-cold steel. His soft voice cut through the assembly and froze that ball of lead in Ukitake's gut. "Kyouraku-san, since you've joined us you have caused no end of mischief. I will not recount your exploits-" And here Kyouraku let out a moan of disappointment. Ukitake's eyes slid shut. _Oh gods, Shun. Shut. UP._ - "for they are well known by now and I daresay it is their recounting that is half the pleasure for you."

"Only a third of the pleasure, good Third," Shunsui's voice piped up. Ukitake could imagine the glib look on his face. "Wine and women make up the rest."  
Silence fell. Ukitake could barely hear the squad mates kneeling around him breathing; hell, we wasn't sure _he_ was breathing.

Heavy footfall strode forward. "Rise. Not you, Kyouraku. The rest of you," commanded Second Seat Hanamori.

Ukitake rose, more from obedience then his own strength.

Second Seat Hanamori had never before taken part in these procedures, other than to witness the regaling of the crime and its summary punishment. His presence, together with the public humiliation, was deemed sufficient to recall erring shinigami back to their honor and duty. Everyone feared the disregard of Hanamori; he was nearly as old as Yamamoto-dono, with a face like a rock cliff and a sword that stood taller than he did, even sealed. Ukitake's sense of dread went from nauseating to palpable.

"Attend, all of you." Second Seat made a tiny motion with his hand; the Third and Fourth seats seized Shunsui's obi and ripped it in half as if it were tissue paper.

A shadow passed across Shunsui's face. "Breakaway clothing. Very handy in..many situations," he announced to the crowd. No one dared laugh; it was a mark of Shun's nerves that he attempted the jape at all.

Second Seat simply stood over him for a long moment, then shook his head. "You may not mind shaming yourself, Kyouraku, son of the Great House. No indeed, I think you rather enjoy heaping misery upon your own head." He leaned in then, his voice dropping in a way that still carried throughout the assembly. "It is your brothers you shame. It is them you injure. These souls who have taken oath to protect lives with their own, it is they you disrespect with your behavior. And that I will not have." Kyouraku stared straight ahead, just above Ukitake's head, at nothing, for once listening. His face could have been carved from wood, although a muscle in his jaw twitched. Hanamori-san circled around behind his kneeling charge, issuing a final proclamation. "You do not deserve to stand among them." Calmly, he picked up a bullwhip from the back of the dais and uncoiled it.

_NO_. Ukitake's throat closed up. He looked at Shunsui, found those brown eyes staring straight into his. Ukitake was sure his own were full of horror; Shunsui's contained only resolve and, for the merest of seconds, apology.

Jyuushirou felt the first lash as if it fell on his own back. And the second. And the third. By the fourth he started to go numb, from somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach out to his hands and feet.

Kyouraku wasn't so lucky. He managed to take six lashes before the first grunt escaped his lips. He screwed them together in fury, but this was Hanamori-san wielding the whip and his arm was as thick as a tree trunk. By ten, Shunsui's muscles were rippling under a sheen of sweat even before the blow fell; by fifteen he was howling behind fused teeth. By twenty-five, he was just howling.

And still, the lashes fell, bullwhip screaming through the air. Ukitake began to feel something rising up his throat, something black and bitter and hot. As Shunsui slumped under the agony, Jyuushirou made himself keep watching. _He has to stop soon._.. Thirty, thirty five...Third and Fourth no longer held Shunsui down, by now they were holding him up. The lash rose and fell, faster now, fast as the heartbeat that thundered in Ukitake's chest. _When is it going to_

"_STOP_!"

Ukitake felt the shout more than he heard it; it could have come from anyone. If someone had told Ukitake it'd come from his own lips he would have believed it, although he had no memory of speaking. Hanamori's arm froze, black eyes snapping up, surveying the assembly. They rested on Ukitake perhaps a hair longer than anyone else, but then moved on. His hand lowered; the whip clattered to the ground.

Ukitake took his first breath in what felt like years.

Hanamori-san surveyed his shinigami one last time through a mask of sweat and blood. One more hand gesture, and Kyouraku was lowered to the ground, somewhat more gently that Ukitake would have expected. It seemed everyone present had witnessed more than they'd bargained for.

Hanamori-san remained astute. Crossing around to the crumpled form, he crouched by Shunsui's head, once again speaking in that soft tone that carried. "Shinigami fall. We live and die in blood. If we are lucky, we fall in battle. If we are luckier still, we fall in service to another brother. If we are luckiest, we give our life that another may live." Hanamori straightened. An odd solemnity softened his tone, if it could be said that stone softens. "Find a better reason to fall, son of Kyouraku. Your brothers deserve better than this. And so do you." He turned and strode off, Third and Fourth following behind him.

Silence, for half a heartbeat. Then Kyouraku let out a long groan and Ukitake flashed to his side.

"Don't move," he said to his friend, hissing softly; Kyouraku's back looked like raw meat. He summoned a commanding tone from that pit in his stomach. "Someone get a hell butterfly!"

"No need," Retsu's voice poured across them like a cool balm. "I would have to be dead or deaf to miss the way your energies were fluxuating." Her beautiful eyes roamed over the ruin of Shunsui's back before meeting Ukitake's somberly. "I'll need help getting him to Fourth."

A dozen voices piped up; it was then Jyuushirou realized that the entire squad was huddled around them, concern in their eyes. Concern and anger and fear. Ukitake swallowed; maybe he hadn't been the only one who'd seen enough. "I got him."

Restsu smiled and nodded; the rest of the squad fell back respectfully. "Get a good grip, we'll have to flash in exact tandem to keep from jostling him."

Ukitake nodded, then gulped; there was hardly any place to lay hand on Shunsui that wasn't gaping and raw. In one or two places, he glimpsed the glisten of bone. Kyouraku groaned again, and Ukitake clamped his jaw.

"Hang on Shun, this is going to hurt-"

* * *

"He's going to be fine." Unohana's voice stirred Jyuushirou from his posture, gazing thoughtfully at Shunsui where the latter slept on a pallet.

Hazel eyes, murky with pain and confusion, swung around to meet Retsu's calm dark gaze. "I know."

"Is that confidence in my work I hear?" Retsu teased gently, slipping into the room to join Jyuushirou on the tatamis.

"Always." Ukitake's face tightened into a faint hint of a smile. "Also, he went from quietly grunting to yowling at anything and everything. He's always noisiest when he's on the mend. It's when he's quiet that I fear his wounds are too deep." The smile grew, although the tightness remained around his eyes.

Unohana laid a hand on his. "Sounds familiar. He's said much the same about you."

Ukitake snorted. "I never yowl." He patted her hand back.

Restu smiled broadly. "No, but you're the same regardless. You both hide your wounds in silence."

At that, Ukitake had nothing to say. He fell back into his brooding vigil. Retsu watching him for a while before speaking softly.

"What's bothering you?"

Ukitake's silver locks shook with his head. "I'm so...angry."

Unohana's eyebrows lifted. "At Hanamori-san? Or Kyouraku-san?"

"Both," Ukitake returned heatedly. Then he deflated in a sharp sigh. "Neither. I don't know."

"It was a harsh punishement, and cruel." Retsu was careful to speak truth with no ring of judgment; superiors were not to be questioned.

"And it wouldn't have happened if Shun could keep his bloody act together for five minutes." Frustration came out so rarely from congenial Jyuushirou that the tone sounded foreign. "I don't understand why he...why Second-" He choked off, face twisting. "Isn't there enough suffering in this world without inviting more? For _no _reason?" he finally exhaled. It sounded like a plea.

Retsu snaked a hand up to rest on the nape of Jyuushirou's neck; he shuddered at the contact, still immersed in misery. "Everything has a reason."

"Not this. This is as pointless as it gets," Ukitake replied shortly, turning his troubled eyes on Retsu. Finally, the real question burbled up. "Why does he keep doing this to himself?"

Unohana weighed her words carefully. "Because he needs his pain. It's all he knows."

Ukitake's forehead furrowed as he grappled with that insight. It took him a long time to find his voice again and when he did, as always, he cut right to the point. "Doesn't he realize he's not just hurting himself?"

Uonhana gave Juushirou's hand a gentle squeeze. "No. Not before today."

Finally, Ukitake's eyes lit with understanding. When he turned back to look at his resting friend, his torment had settled into a sort of resignation. "Why does everthing have to happen the hard way?" he intoned quietly.

For that, Retsu had no answer, so she simply sat with him until, with a quiet sigh, Ukitake got to his feet.

"I should report back. I've been gone long enough as it is and it would hardly do to appear derelict of duty after today." He bowed, properly but quickly. "You'll let me know if-?"

"Of course." Retsu nodded as Ukitake bowed and vanished, although she did not move herself. She sat quietly for long moments, staring at nothing, before shifting to just the place Ukitake had been sitting on the tatamis, and settling in to wait.

* * *

Ukitake arrived back at his Squad in a funk. He was still trying to come to grips with the cost of today's events, and whether they had been entirely necessary - and if they were, was this sort of life what he really wanted anyway? - when a voice broke into his reverie

"Ukitake-san. Stop where you are."

It took all of Ukitake's control to bite his tongue; his feet obeyed on accord, as a soldier reacts automatically to the tone of command. He froze, although he managed a hair of rebellion by not turning to face his commander.

Hanamori-san slowly circled around to look him straight on. Surely, the minute slight was not lost on him, although Ukitake made sure to keep his expression blank. His Fukutaicho studied him for a long while in the growing twilight, flinty eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts. Ukitake picked a bit of space just above Hanamori-san's right shoulder and locked his gaze there.

The light transitioned from grey-glow to lantern-flicker before Hanamor-san spoke. "Reports are coming in of Hollow activity in the northern forests. Nothing certain, all of them from civilians, yet Yamamoto-dono has decided to increase patrols. You are commanded to join Seventh Seat on reconnaisance patrol. Report for duty in fifteen minutes." A long pause, while Ukitake struggled to control his emotions. "Acknowledge your orders."

"Hai, Fukutaicho!" The words came like heartbeat, there and gone before Ukitake could realize he'd said them. Hanamori-san nodded and strode off.

Leaving Ukitake standing there, alone in the dark with his roiling thoughts. Here he was, truly questioning whether this life of combat and blood was reall what he wanted, his best friend languishing in Fourth as an object lesson, and now of all days he was finally ordered into the field. He could have laughed if it had been any less ironic. He indulged in a brief daydream of returing to Ugendo, to his family, his sisters, his brothers, his books...he could spend time with Shunsui like before, only for fun, for exercise not for...whatever this Gotei stood for. Not for _nothing_...

He sighed, and let the dream go. To walk away on his duty know would make everything Shunsui had suffered worthless. He might not agree with the Gotei's methods, but he was committed now and maybe - just maybe - it had gotten through to Shunsui on some level that would make a damn bit of difference.

But he would have to wait until he returned to found that out. Resolved, if still uncertain, Jyuushirou turned on his heel and strode into the darkness.

* * *

Ukitake crouched on a thick branch, high above the forest floor. With skill honed in the Kyouraku woods, he carefully modulated his spirit power, keeping his own personal signature as muted as possible while 'tasting' the shifting air around them. The winds shifted through the trees, rippling a sea of whispering leaves in all directions. It was not unlike the shifting surface of the lake at Ugendo, only vaster, wilder, like the ocean Ukitake had heard of but never seen.

"There's not a damn thing out there."

Jyuushirou resisted the urge to shush his companion; Oakuto-san was Seventh and outranked him, but in all other respects was probably the worst tracker Ukitake had ever met. It was an unkindly thought - Ukitake himself had once been utterly inept at woodlore and Hollow-hunting - but politeness wouldn't matter much if they got ambushed.

Ukitake bit his tongue and sent his senses drifting again.

"Don't even know what we're looking for." Oakuto-san scratched at the bark between his feet with the tip of his zanpaktou, carving a lewd image that kept vanishing under weeping sap. "Let's just go back and report that there's nothing to report."

Coming from a superior, that was almost an order, but a stronger sense of duty prevailed. Ukitake clenched his jaw and picked his words carefully. "We can report in by butterfly whenever needed. Our orders were to patrol this area until relieved." His fingers tightened on Sogyou no Kotowari's hilt; he forced them loose.

"That was three days ago," Oakuto muttered; his tone implied annoyance, but as it was also true, Ukitake took it as a mere statement instead. He didn't want to deal with it if his superior in the field was questioning orders. Oakuto himself seemed to realize the dangerous ground he was skirting and fell silent, heaving a sigh and making a show of examining the woods again.

The problem was, Oakuto wasn't wrong; their presence here was hard to understand. True, reports had come in from myriad sources that Hollows had been seen in the eastern reaches, but they contradicted themselves more than not. The Gotei had been called upon to gather further intelligence, but there were too few shinigami and too much ground to cover. Deeply forested ground at that; a paired shinigami scout team could scour leagues in a day and still miss thousands of glades, caves and ravines where Hollows could hide. It had seemed an impossible task, but one that could not be refused; if this was the primary duty of the Gotei then they could hardly be caught claiming inability to accomplish it. An exercise in futility, but a necessary one.

Or so it had seemed. The first night, three scouting teams in completely different areas had vanished. No pattern, no word, no report. They were simply gone.

Yamamoto-dono had swung into action, swiftly and quietly. Any team still out would remain scouting until they found either Hollows or one of the missing teams. Most of the shinigami who remained were teamed up and sent out as well; only enough remained to keep up the appearance that Gotei had not stripped its barracks bare. The mission was simple: find out what was going on out here. The Gotei was on the brink of a scandal as it was, for the missing soldiers if nothing else. The Gotei needed hard intelligence, and it needed it fast.

Days had passed, and still no one knew anything, Two more teams had vanished. Remaining teams were to report in via hell butterfly every hour on the hour, night and day. _And do not return until you've found something_.

So here he was, Ukitake Jyuushirou, who just wanted to go home and leave the military and all its orders and games and meaningless violence behind, stuck in the woods with a beligerant superior, chasing ghosts. Ghosts that might kill him.

_If only Unohana would send some kind of update_, Ukitake thought to himself, not for the first time. He still didn't know how Shunsui was doing.

"We should split up, cover more ground." Oakuto said. It was about the dozenth time he'd made the suggestion.

"And vanish faster?" Ukitake studied the horizon. Was that a hint of motion by the river?

The reply always shut Oakuto up, but this time he just glared at Ukitake and spat off the tree. "Well, I gotta have a piss. Let me know if any scout teams or Hollows magically appear."

Ukitake ignored the sacrasm, narrowing his eyes and his reiatsu in the direction he'd been watching. With the wind up, motion could be decieving, but he could _feel _something moving over by the riverbank as well as see it. It was faint, imperceptible...but it was different from the rest of the forest and that made it something. He glanced down below, wondering if he should wait for Oakuto to confirm that position, then sighed. He was tired of snide remarks, and the river was just a shunpo away. He'd be back before Oakuto had finished rearranging his loin cloth.

A whisper of air, two, and he dropped behind a boulder. Breath held, Ukitake reached with his senses first, modulating them to resemble the trickling water as it tumbled over the rocks beyond. A trick Shunsui had taught him; when in nature, emulate it. All things can sense spirit power, animals more even than humans, and Hollows more than animals. Make your power signature 'sound' like the background noise of the forest, and you can reach far without betraying your presense. Ukitake let a wisp of power ride an air current wending through the trees, only to hear nothing but the whisper of leaves. Carefully, he peeked from his hiding place, took in the surrounding area. A few dragonflies danced above the water, nothing more. He lingered a few minutes more, long enough to satisfy himself that he was following a false hunch, before he glanced back the way he had come. In the trees, he saw a glimpse of white and black robes; Oakuto, one arm waving.

_Perhaps we've been called back_, Ukitake thought, sorry he'd missed a summons by even a minute or two. _Damn fool should stop waving his arms about, still. _ A twist or two of space, and he was dropping back onto the branch he'd left moments before.

Oakuto had returned. Or what was left of him, at least. The condition of his robes suggested he hadn't found his bush before death had found him. The arm that flapped lazily in the breeze was hanging on to his torso by a few tendons, nothing more. Of his zanpaktou, there was no sign.

Ukitake just stood there, gaping at the tableau, for longer than he knew was safe. _It's impossible! I didn't see anything! I didn't _hear_-!_

He barely felt the blow. One minute he was by the river, the next he was standing over the corpse of his scout mate - and the next he was falling. And then the forest floor was there to greet him and everything went black.


	17. The First Mission, Part 2

"Nurse! _Nurse_!"

Even at full bellow, Kyouraku's demand went unanswered for nearly half an hour. When she did appear, he fixed Unohana with his prettiest pout.

"Where have you _been_," he wailed. "I'm in _pain_ here!"

"Gods forbid," came the placid reply as Retsu settled gracefully at his side. She readied her reiatsu and raised an eyebrow. "So, what hurts?"

"Uhm, my left shoulder," Shunsui replied, putting as much wounded-puppy-dog as he could into his voice. In return, he found delicate hands hovering over the indicated area as a less-than-pleasant tingling/burning started up. When that spiked into a hot poker/itching, it was all he could do to keep from howling. He set his teeth and waited for the pain to subside some minutes later before letting out a deep breath. "How much longer do I have to endure these treatments, anyway?"

Unohana let out her own sigh, and for the life of him it sounded exasperated. "Any time you want. You've been mended for days."

"Nonsense," Shunsui scoffed. "If I wasn't in agony, I'd be long gone."

"Would you really." The dry return made Shunsui cock an eyebrow and twist around to peek at Retsu's expression, which was the picture of innocence. His movement earned him a slap. "Stay still, you're undoing all my work."

"Well, if I'm SO healed there's nothing left to pull open," Shunsui groused, trying to draw his thoughts away from his first few days here when the slightest motion had set his back to weeping crimson time and again. He turned his brewing discontent onto his healer. "So which is it? Either I'm an invalid, or I'm ready to head back."

"Back where?"

Shunsui's teeth locked shut as his latent fury welled up. _Where indeed?_

"To where I belong," he finally muttered sullenly.

Unohana's reiatsu snapped off and he could feel her settling down to look at him with her enormous eyes. "And where is that exactly?"

The very question that kept him here, undecided and immobile. He couldn't go home; House Kyouraku had been nothing but a dead end to him for decades. A graveyard where his childhood and any sense of certainty about himself had been buried. He couldn't return to Rukongai either; oh sure, he'd be heartily welcomed at any brewpub or brothel at which he presented himself...but it would be the glint of his money reflected in every smile he saw, and for some reason that bothered him when before it had made him feel secure. That sort of affection had never been real, and that had always been fine by him because he had preferred the pretense.

Now, though...

That left only going back to First Squad. To the Gotei. To Hanamori and his lackeys, to Yamamoto-sutaicho and his endless schemes. To Ukitake.

A hand cupping his chin brought his gaze up to meet Retsu's, her touch as gentle as her eyes were implacable. "Kyouraku Shunsui, for once in your life, just say what is in your heart."

He fought back a sudden burning behind his eyelids. "He hates me."

Unohana's forehead crinkled. "Who hates you?" she asked quietly.

Shunsui pulled away, dropping his chin back onto his crossed arms. He rattled off a mental litany of curses at himself, but couldn't seem to keep from speaking further. "Who do you think?"

When she didn't answer, he rushed on. "When they were- during the- I saw his eyes. They were full of anger. Of hatred. I've never seen that look before, not from him." He hunched in on himself. "It's about time. I mean, I knew he'd get fed up with me sooner or later, and gods know I've put him through enough bullshit..." Words stopped coming. That stupid burning sensation was back.

To her credit, Unohana waited a good while before speaking. It didn't make her words any easier to hear. "Love and hate are not polar opposites. On the emotional spectrum, they are but a hair's breadth apart." Something forced him to meet her gaze. "He doesn't hate you."

"Bullshit."

"No one hates you. No one but yourself."

Shunsui jerked away. "You weren't there, Retsu. You didn't see his face."

"I didn't have to," Retsu replied with a surprising amount of force. Shunsui found himself glancing up at her in surprise. Her gaze bore holes through him. "If he felt hate that day, I tell you true, it was for one reason and one alone - that he couldn't have taken your place."

It was too much; Shunsui dropped back onto his crossed arms, eyes screwed shut. "Why the hell would he want to do that?" he asked huskily, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

A delicate touch on his head nearly undid him, but not as much as Unohana's next words. "Because bearing pain is always easier than watching it fall upon someone you care about."

The world went hazy for a while as Shunsui struggled to compose himself. It took a while. "I wouldn't know," he finally croaked.

"You do, now." Came the reply, ringing with a certainty that almost set Kyouraku reeling again. Mercifully, Unohana returned to her medical ministrations, working her reiatsu expertly across his back and leaving him to his thoughts.

Finally, Shunsui felt like he could speak without disgracing himself. "Why hasn't he come to visit me? I visit him in the hospital all the time."

"He's probably on patrol," Unohana replied, finished with his emotional lancing and completely focused on his physical healing. "Most shinigami are, lately."

"Eh? Patrol, what for?" All their squads had done for months were endless training regimens. The thought of actual action in the field quickened Shunsui's pulse. The thought of Ukitake on patrol without him sped it faster. "How long has this been going on?"

"Since the day you arrived," Retsu replied, her reiatsu snapping off as she turned to meet his look, her eyes calmer now but guarded. "Why do you ask?"

He couldn't answer exactly; something about the Gotei suddenly on patrol, about Ukitake not coming to see him in Fourth, filled him with dread, "Am I ready to leave?"

"If I said no, would it stop you?" Dark eyes held his captive, seeming to understand.

And suddenly, so did Shunsui. "No," he replied, throwing off his blanket and getting to his feet for the first time in days. He barely even took a second to indulge in the fact that he was butt naked in front of one of his favorite females in Sereitei, instead losing no time crossing the room and reaching for his robes. A hand stopped him as he was tying his obi around his waist.

Unohana, looking up at him with full earnesty. "Don't push yourself too hard. There's no telling how deep such damage can run, no matter how I heal the surface."

There was something more to her words than Kyouraku was willing to consider at this point, so he simply nodded and, hitching his swords around his waist, strode out of Fourth and turned his stride in the direction of First Squad.

* * *

Sure enough, the squad grounds were eerily quiet when he arrived. Shunsui had half-expected some kind of confrontation or demonstration upon his return, but was quickly brought up short at how deserted the squad seemed. Sure, there were scouts on the walls and the odd shinigami scurrying about, but Shunsui realized that he recognized them but vaguely; soldiers from another squad, then. Almost no one from First actually seemed to be in First.

That baffled him for a moment before realization dawned and his jaw drew tight shut. _If I were Captain-Commander, and I was facing a problem I didn't understand, I'd send my own men into the field first._

Before he knew it he was walking, almost-running, and in no time at all it seemed he was sidling up to the admin buildings.

Eavesdropping on the administration building wasn't easy, but it was easier than proceeding with no information and it's not like he could simply drop in and demand an update. Slipping onto the roof was the simple part; weaving a listening spell into the roof tiles and letting them sink just slowly enough not to be noticed and just deep enough to hear was the trick. It was excruciating to Shunsui's patience, especially since a sense of undefined urgency was building in him, but he persisted.

A slight resistance, the gentlest possible nudge through the sound-proofing kidou as he could manage, and suddenly he could hear as clearly as if the occupants of the room below were speaking right into his ear.

"...I stand by it." Hanamori-san. That voice made Shunsui's jaw clench. "I'm just not sure it was right."

After a pause, Yamamoto spoke up. "Are you questioning orders, fukutaicho?"

A tone to Hanamori that Shunsui had never heard; it bordered on religious fervor. "Never. I know you had the right of it - that one's pride needs building, not breaking, and no mistaking despite his behavior. His blood brought pride to the squad as well. No matter their feelings towards me; they bonded in blood and the lad is hale, as Fourth reports." Shunsui nearly growled; he had no doubts whom they were discussing. His vision threatened to turn red, but Hanamori's next words stopped him short. "But what good is it to save one at the cost of so many others?"

"There is no word that they are lost." Yamamoto's voice grated implacably.

"There is no word at all." Hanamori's reiatsu flared; it was impossible to mistake for anything other than bone-deep concern. Shunsui struggled to reconcile this obvious protective streak over his underlings with the same man who had nearly stripped the meat from his own back.

"Then it is information we need, not fear and doubt," Yamamoto replied, speaking quickly to forestall what may have been a further attempt of Hanamori to argue. "Go see to the duty roster; I will find the scouts we need."

Something in the energy below made it seem as if Hanamori had half a mind to argue further, but the concluding statement of his superior rang with the tone of command and Hanamori was honor-bound to do no less than obey. He beat a hasty retreat, stalking from the admin building trailing a heavy aura of discontent and worry.

_Who knew he cared so much?_ Kyouraku thought, just as his eavesdropping spell boomed another sentence into his ear.

_"Kyouraku Shunsui, are you going to get down here or continue lurking on my roof?_"

Shunsui nearly toppled from the eaves, from shock or surprise or both. Righting his robes as best he could and trying to wipe his expression clean of chagrin, he meandered around the side of the building and let himself into Yamamoto's offices without bothering the knock.

The old man was hunched over his desk, long braided beard coiled on his lap. Was it a trick of the light, or could Kyouraku see a strand or two of silvery-white working its way through the braid?

"You are ready for duty." It was half-request, half demand.

Shunsui opted to address the request-half. "Hai, sutaicho. What's going on out there?"

"You are well enough for a field mission?" This was pitched as a question, but one that had already been answered. The old man's creased eyelids seemed to be peering at him, almost smiling.

"I'm ready for anything." Kyouraku held that half-gaze determined to prove strong enough for a contest of wills, at least.

Yamamoto didn't break gaze so much as shift, one gnarled hand lifting a scrap of scroll paper from his desk. "This is their last known location. I know nothing else."

Shunsui didn't have to ask to whom Yamamoto-dono was referring; swallowing the sudden taste of bile, he reached out and took the slip. His eyes skittered over the kanji before flashing up to meet Yamamoto-dono's.

"This report is four days old."

The old man simply nodded, wrapping a massively muscled fist around the head of his cane.

Kyouraku was halfway out the door when his commander's final words reached his ears.

"Come back, Kyouraku. And at the very least, bring me the truth of what's happening out there."

* * *

It took way too much time for Kyouraku to find him.

For once, Shunsui could almost thank the gods for the pool of blood in which the pale man lay, glinting dark crimson in the moonlight and drawing his attention. Considering how low Ukitake's reiatsu was resonating – low enough to be all but non-existent - it was a wonder he found him at all.

Dropping out of shunpo at Jyuushirou's side, Kyouraku swallowed a sudden lurch of fear in his throat along with a curse; stretching a broad hand over Ukitake's chest, Shunsui closed his eyes and opened up his own spirit senses.  
Jyuushirou's skin was cold as ice.

"Fuck the seven hells, Jyuu," Shunsui muttered roughly, searching, _searching_. "You're the one with all the damn class." _Please gods please gods don't let me be too late..._ "No way can you just die in the goddamned dirt like this!" He realized he was shouting, and calmed himself just in time to catch it.

_There_.

Kyouraku's eyes flew open. It was the merest hint of reiatsu, the faintest of pulses, no greater than the flutter of a butterfly's wing.

Cursing with conviction, without further thought or hesitation, Kyouraku drew the longer of his swords and drove it with all his strength into Ukitake's heart.

* * *

It was dark. Dark and cold.

For a for a long time this confused Jyuushirou. He'd always heard that death was warm, soothing, a wondrous place suffused with music and white light...  
But not here. Here everything hurt. For a few moments that terrified him - the thought that death was full of as much pain as life had been – fear lancing through him and stealing his breath away...

But then the breath returned in one long, wrenching cough that was far too familiar to be otherworldly. Ukitake gagged and drew a second fire-laced breath, another wrenching cough setting up to follow, doubling him over.

Strong arms caught him mid-flail, held on while Jyuushirou struggled to breathe, every inch of him burning and aching and abominably exhausted. It lasted so long that Jyuushirou firmly wished for the death that had been denied him. Just as his last bit of strength neared its limit, the tightness in his chest eased up, just a hair, just enough to draw a few shallows gasps that were not complete torture.

"There you go...take another one...not too deep, you fool, or you'll set off again...that's it...in and out...in and out..."

Trembling like a newborn calf, rasps tearing his throat out, Ukitake let the voice direct him, too tired to remember that he'd had plenty of experience with such fits and knew more clearly what to do than any soul had a right to. Just now, he didn't care, all he could do was listen to the voice and try to fend off the drowning, burning agony long enough to take just one more breath..

Slowly but surely, his breathing evened out, the pain lessened, and against all odds he finally passed out from sheer exhaustion.

When he woke again, it was still cold and dark but he wasn't quite as disoriented. With a patience and deliberation borne of long experience, Jyuushirou drew careful, measured breaths and took stock of his situation.

He was alive. Always, that was the first and most surprising fact to establish itself.

Memory came next; the Hollows in the woods. Days of tracking, a hint of motion...reconnaissance that led to him finding his superior dead in a tree. Some kind of blunt force trauma, and then falling...

Then pain. Lots of it. He had a vague memory of hitting the ground, of drowning, and then...nothing. Just the cold and the dark, and-

"Hey pretty boy; about damn time you woke up." Kyourakou's voice was almost painfully thin, with an odd sort of resonance to it. "It's no good, you know – all the beauty naps in the world won't let you catch up to my good looks."

Improbably, Ukitake's face sprang into a small grin – which turned instantly into a grimace as his dry and cracked lips split at the motion. He let out a groan to match it, his eyes fluttering open for the first time. Darkness met his gaze; it seemed to be everywhere. "Where are we?"

"Cave," Shunsui wheezed reverbally; Ukitake nodded slightly – at least that explained the acoustics. An odd shuffling sound echoed around the enclosed space. "Best place I could find, given the circumstances. You're heavier than a barrel of sake, I don't care how skinny you look." Slowly, Kyouraku drew close in the near-pitch blackness, panting faintly. "'Bout as far as I could carry you, considering..." A quiet, swift chant and a faint light source sprang into being.

Exhaustion momentarily forgotten, Ukitake felt his eyes widen. "You look like hell."

Despite his ragged attempts to grin in his usual wry manner, Shunsui looked like he'd been chewed up and spit out by half the Hollows in Soul Society. Dark brown eyes bore deep circles and he looked about ready to fall over himself.

The rugged fragility of him frightened Ukitake. "I haven't seen you this awful since your last hangover."

"Kick a dog while he's down, why don't you?" Shunsui grunted, dropping a broad hand across Ukitake's forehead. Another grunt, husky with the hint of relief. "Your fever's broken, at least - had me worried there for a while. No damn good saving your life just to have you die on me."

_Saving your life_. Ukitake's eyes drifted shut against the shame. Someone stronger – healthier – would not have needed rescue. "You should not have risked yourself for me, Shun."

Shunsui snorted; his hand disappeared as he flopped dramatically onto the cave floor next to Jyuushirou. "Are you kidding? How else am I going to earn a proper reward? I'd say the eldest son of the Ukitake clan is worth a life-time supply of sake, at the very least."

"A supply your Clan could fund without the least burden," Ukitake returned, absent vitriol. He concentrated on breathing.

"Assuming they don't cut me off," came Shunsui's blithe reply. "Although in truth, they haven't yet. Maybe if I made a pass at one of my first cousins...?"

Something convulsed in Jyuushirou's chest; it took him a moment to realize it was a chuckle. "You're impossible." A strange sound echoed his own mirth; it was the weakest, most pathetic fit of giggles Ukitake had ever heard. "Can't you be serious at a time like this?"

"A time like what?" Kyouraku wheezed, a ridiculous grin on his face. "We're half alive, trapped in a cave surrounded by Hollows, with no way to contact Gotei for backup." Wiping tears from his eyes, Shunsui let another few guffaws shake him. "Jyuu my dear friend – what the hell else have we got to do?"

The evaluation sombered Ukitake. "You can tell me what happened," he asked quietly, a certain foreboding stealing over him.

Revitalized by the laughter, Kyouraku rolled up off the floor and made a half-hearted attempt to stand, bracing himself on his short-sword as he tottered to the other side of the enclosure. Somewhere along the way he managed a faint shrug. "Dunno exactly; I found you half dead in the forest after Yamamoto-sutaicho sent me looking for you. Your team hadn't reported in for days." Splashing sounds made Ukitake's thirst roar to life; he hadn't realized there was a small pool at the far side of the cave. He watched in desperate jealousy as Kyouraku took a long draught before cupping his hands and capturing some water, slowly making his way back with his precious cargo.

Along the way, a minor detail caught Ukitake's attention and stole whatever moisture was left in his mouth.

Shunsui's short sword lay next to the pool where he'd lain it. And both the jindachi-zukuris at Kyouraku's obi were empty.

"Shun," Ukitake breathed, his eyes wide. "Where's your other sword?"

Kyouraku didn't answer at first, taking the time instead to carefully pour cool, clear liquid onto Ukitake's parched lips. It tasted glorious. Free of his burden, Shunsui turned to make another trip, chatting almost amiably. "You were in bad shape when I found you. I figured, there wasn't enough time to get you back to Fourth..." He trailed off, padding softly back with another handful of water.

A quiet sense of dread started to fill Ukitake. "Shun – _what did you do?"_

Shunsui waited until he was mid-pour before making his off-hand confession. "Transferred my spirit power to you, is all." Ukitake nearly choked; Shunsui clucked at his spluttering. "Easy. Hey, knock it off – I just got you breathing again, dammit!"

Jyuu barely got his coughing under control before dredging up the most horrified rejoinder he could muster. "Shun – do you have any idea how reckless that was? Transferring power is...gods, it's – _theoretical_ at best!" Another cough, this one laced with anger. "You could have killed both of us-!"

The rest was lost in a miserable coughing fit; when the red haze cleared from Ukitake's vision, Shunsui's somber eyes filled his view.

"You were as good as dead anyway, Jyuu. It was the only chance you had." Uncharacteristically serious, Kyouraku tore off the end of his obi and used it to wipe off the sweat and grime and blood from Ukitake's face. "And I don't know what you're whining about anyway – it worked, didn't it?" Resuming his procedure, Shunsui made another pass at the pool. "And I only used my long sword, I've still got one left. Hell, that's how I had any strength at all to find this place; the transference let out a helluva shockwave. That's probably what attracted the Hollows hanging around outside; I barely had time to get us blocked in here before they showed up." This time Kyouraku returned with a jindachi-zukuri full of water, enough so that Ukitake finally got a proper drink under Shunsui's careful observation.

Thirst quenched, Ukitake felt slightly less hysterical. "So, we're stuck in a cave, surrounded by Hollows, neither of us with the strength to stand much less fight - all because you wasted your power trying to save someone who's just going to die of sickness anyway." Jyuushirou couldn't help it; the black self-pity reached up from where it had been hiding all the long years since his last bout of depression and all but threatened to strangle him.

Once again, a warm hand rested on Ukitake's forehead, oddly soothing. "Not today you won't, my friend," Shunsui rumbled softly, resolution thrumming in his voice. "Not today. Now get some rest; we've both got a hell of a lot of reiatsu to regain before we fight our way out of here."

* * *

Time was different in the cave. Without sun or moon or stars to judge by, Ukitake drifted in and out of consciousness with no reference for how long he slept. It could have been hours, weeks or days. Occasionally, he tried to summon a hell butterfly, but Shunsui's estimation of their strength was painfully accurate; it was all he could do to even sense Shunsui's reiatsu at the other side of the cave, throbbing quietly, and that was mere paces from where he lay. Even that, Ukitake tried to do as infrequently as possible; his own spirit power fluctuated in a way that wasn't exactly unfamiliar, but wasn't entirely _him_ either.

He tried not to think of the implications of that. Just glancing at Kyouraku's empty sheath was enough to infuriate Jyuushirou at the risk that had been taken. Of course, it was also fascinating to have a theory of spirit power proven...when they returned, the scholars would go crazy over this development.

_If_ they returned. Feeling not the least ready for it, Ukitake finally groaned and dragged himself up to a sitting position.

"Hey, easy there." Kyouraku was at his side in an instant. "Stay still, you're in a sorry state."

"One that won't improve laying around in a cave," Ukitake wheezed, feeling very much like lying down again but refusing to let himself. He weathered a ragged cough or two, his face set with determination. "Shun, we gotta get out of here."

"Not yet we don't," Kyouraku argued. "There's water, shelter-"

"And no food, and the Gotei still doesn't know what's happened to us." Shunsui's face furrowed in annoyance, but he didn't argue so Ukitake continued. "Sleep won't help much; we're only getting weaker without food and we _have_ to report back what's happening out here."

"What _is_ happening out here?" Shunsui bellowed in frustration. He met Ukitake's glare with equal measure. "Care to get me up to speed, pretty boy?"

Ukitake did his best; he had precious little hard data to confer, but Shunsui listened carefully to his recitation. "Was Oakutu's zanpaktou by his body?" he finally asked.

Ukitake blinked. That was hardly the most interesting part of his meager report. "No, now that I think about it. It was like he'd been tossed back into the tree, or what was left of him anyway." Jyuushirou trailed off.

"What was left of him," Shunsui repeated, his gaze lost deep in thought.

A sudden wave of terror engulfed him. His hands flew to his obi, finding exactly the emptiness he'd feared. "Shun, where's my zanpaktou?" he all but shrieked.

Kyouraku's eyes tightened. "I don't know; it wasn't with you when I found you."

Ukitake attempted to ride the waves of panic that swept through him. He shook his head forcefully. "That's impossible, I had him when I fell." He clutched and unclenched his fists, feeling utterly naked.

"Ok, calm down, there's no point in panic," Shunsui said soothingly, although Ukitake just shot him a glare that was equal parts terror and fury. "If you're alive, your zanpaktou is too. Can you sense him at all?"

Jyuushriou wasted long moments trying to calm himself enough to reach out with his senses. It was unpleasant; the pulse of his own power resonated oddly with the sources Kyouraku had dumped into him. They didn't compete, exactly, but they bounced off each other in a way that was not exactly soothing. Forcing himself to concentrated on his own resonance, Ukitake delved inside himself and _listened_.

It seemed half of forever before he emerged, Shunsui's dark eyes full of concern awaiting his return. "He's intact." That was all Ukitake could put together from the vague sensations he'd intuited. "And...close by, I think. Are we far from where you found me?"

"Not very," Shunsui confirmed, getting to his feet in a show of bravado that was slightly spoiled by his obviously weakened state. "Like I said, I couldn't get far-"

"Yeah, yeah." Ukitake was in no mood to hear descriptions of his weight again. He too struggled to put his feet under him. "How many Hollows are out there, do you think?"

Kyouraku shrugged, putting his arm under Ukitake's to help him stand. "Half a dozen, last I checked. That was a while ago though; maybe they got bored and left."

Ukitake accepted the help, but pulled away as soon as he was steady. He looked around the cave for any kind of a weapon. Rocks, little else. Braving dizziness, he stooped and picked up some of the smaller ones; laced with what little kidou he could manage, maybe he could hold his own for a while. "Which way's the exit?" he wheezed.

Shunsui held his gaze, looking for a moment as if he would argue, but he just hitched his shoulders and, with a rough chuckle, headed in a direction with his faint kidou light bobbing ahead of him.

"This way, pretty boy. Maybe your smile will dazzle them to death."

Ukitake bit his tongue; he could hardly care about anything more than getting his zanpaktou back right now. He followed Shunsui's retreating form and tried to steady his weak limbs.

At the cave entrance, it took them the better part of an hour to dig away all the rocks Shunsui had fused there as a blockade. Ukitake was shaking perceptibly by the time the first beams of sunlight made it through the wall of stones, and it was all he could do just to clear enough of a hole for both of them to slip through without collapsing again.

Outside the cave, they both dropped onto the verdant grass that floored the small copse in which they found themselves. Not far away, Ukitake could hear the babbling brook that so drew his attention, so disastrously, mere days ago. Catching his breath, Ukitake drew himself upright and froze. Just next to him, he felt Shunsui do the same.

"And so, the rabbits come out of their hole," purred a sensual voice. It belonged to one of the most stunningly beautiful women Ukitake had ever seen.

That is, if you ignored the bone-white Hollow mask that obscured most of her face. Luscious lips curled up into a licentious smile, one that may have heated the pulse of a normal man but for Ukitake, it sent ice water through his veins.

Balanced in her hands, tapping casually against one of her delicate, pale palms, was Sogyou no Kotowari.


	18. Mission Impossible, Part 1

Ukitake felt a sensation not unlike being dunked in ice cold water. The rest of his vision faded to white and all he could see was his zanpaktou. "Give that back."

The creature _tsked_, a scratchy sound that made Jyuushirou twitch. "Pretty present, doesn't want to play?" it purred, running long fingers tipped in razor-sharp nails up and down Sogyo's length.

Ukitake felt that touch as if it was his own skin; he shuddered violently and his vision seemed to blur. "Give him back," he repeated thickly. His tongue felt as if it had swollen to twice it's normal size.

The creature laughed, a sound fit to make him mad. He involuntarily took a step forward but a steady hand on his shoulder halted him.

Kyouraku spoke softly.

"I'd do as he says, pet." Shunsui's voice thrummed like a bow string released. "Unless you've got a powerful wish to die today."

The creature sighed, its mask twisting into something resembling a mangled pout. "Pretty, and prettier. But they talk too much." It raised a hand and snapped its fingers.

A low, subliminal rumble flooded the clearing, stopping Ukitake's breath while quickening his pulse. Snapping instantly into combat mode, he fanned out with his reiatsu - still feeble despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins - and felt Shunsui do the same.

They _sensed_ the Hollows before they saw them. It was like a clenching, wriggling feeling in the deepest pit of his stomach. Dozens of Hollows detached themselves from the shadows ringing the surrounding woods. Tiny to immense, no two alike and all of them watching the two shinigami with an eery stillness. Amazingly, they did not attack. Ukitake could only assume, against all reason, that the Hollowess before them somehow had control of horde.

Ukitake shot his partner a quick glance and, seeing in Shunsui's expression the same grim evaluation of their predicament, slowly raised a hand in a pacifying gesture. He took a deep breath, another; it took him an eternity to calm his alarm and find his voice.

"What do you want?"

The pout turned into a feral grin as the Holowess stalked towards them. As it prowled, it tapped Sogyo no Kotowari casually against its slender shoulder. Ukitake felt every beat like a timpani against his spine.

"Soul soldiers are so delicious, carry such pretty things," it purred, walking around them in a slow circle. Ukitake automatically pivoted to keep it in his sights while Kyouraku held ground and kept his eyes scanning the perimeter. Holding the creature's gaze was nearly as unnerving as turning his back to the rest of the hollows, but his hijacked zanpaktou drew his attention like iron fillings.

The creature continued its round, looking them up and down as if valuing prime meat at market, all the while speaking as if for its ears alone. "Set bait with one in hopes for two, and get…what? One and a half?" It seemed to focus its pitch-black eye holes just over Ukitake's shoulder, where Jyuushirou knew Shunsui's head was turned the other way.

The creature clucked again, an oddly human sound to come from such a hideous face. "Hmm, disappointing…and yet…" Its head swiveled to and fro, from Ukitake to Shunsui and back again, head tilted as if considering. A pink tongue, forked like a snake's snapped out and back, out again; tasting the air, only to vanish behind voluptuous lips again. After an interminable tableau, its lips finally curled up into a twisted smile.

"Not all lost," it muttered with content. Emitting an ear-splitting whistle, it hopped backwards in a flying leap that easily covered half the glen, then turned an dropped into a crouch. Another flying leap, and it vanished into the trees.

Ukitake's stomach dropped to his toes. "Hey!" He gathered magic, fired it off. _Flash_. "STOP!" His panicked cry threw off his next shunpo and he caromed off a tree, losing precious seconds. Shaking his head clear, he growled and threw himself into his next flash, drawing his focus to a pinpoint loci: the diminishing throb of his zanpaktou as it disappeared ahead of him.

"Come back, you _bastard_!"

_Flash. Flash. Flashflashflashflash_-

"Ungh!" Ukitake hit something solid that wouldn't budge and bounced painfully off, landing on the forest floor in a tumble that left him covered in moss.

Just before him stood Shunsui, panting like a blown mount and glaring down at him. "Have you gone mad?"

Ukitake spared him a single, scathing glare before gathering demon magic-

He fell back to the ground again, ears ringing. Shaking his reverberating skill, he glared up through blurred vision. "Did you just roundhouse me!"

"Think, you fool," Shunsui hissed, his cinnamon eyes flashing as he gasped for breath. "You really think you can take on that – thing? Any of them? Now?"

Ukitake let out his breath all in a shudder, and in that split second his fatigue hit him. Arms trembling, it was all he could do to drag himself to his hands and knees and run a miserable hand through his tousled bangs. "Shun –_ it has my sword._"

Kyouraku dropped hands to his knees, trying to catch his breath and still his own trembling limbs. "I know, Jyuu. We'll get him back." He threw his one remaining sword down on the moss next to them, halfway in disgust. "But not like this: not half-dead. Not when we can't put up a fight. Not when that thing can take our heads as easily as breathing." With a grunt, Kyouraku flopped down on the ground, throwing an arm over his shoulder to block out the sunlight. Or the peripheral shame, Ukitake couldn't tell which.

"We wouldn't go down without a fight." Ukitake snarled, rubbing his forearms compulsively. His skin was fit to crawl off his bones.

"No, but go down we would, and neither one of us would stand again." Shunsui muttered into his elbow, shifting his arm just enough to peek out from beneath and quirk an eyebrow. "Fuck, Jyuu, even the hollow knew it. Why'dya think it split? That one's not interested in damaged goods; it's got an ulterior motive. Fuck-all knows what," he growled under his breath.

That's when Ukitake's brain kicked in. He reviewed the last several minutes in his head with growing awe and confusion. "Shun – the hollow _spoke_."

"Yep." Shunsui coughed, rolling over on his side to spit noisily. "Some of them do that."

Jyuushirou's face melted into an expression of shock. "You knew this? How many _speaking_ hollows have you crossed?"

"It's happened once or twice," Kyouraku replied vaguely dragging himself to a half-sit as his breathing finally began to slow. "They're rare."

Ukitake could have swallowed his own tongue. "Shun, I didn't even know that was possible! Does the Gotei know?"

"How the hell should I know?" Shunsui snarled, rubbing the back of his neck and peering up through the trees, ostensibly to get a bearing on the time. "Didn't think to mention it."

Ukitake leaned forward, draping forearms across knees and pleased to see both were shaking less. "Shunsui, all of our studies show hollows to be mindless beasts, incapable of sentience, utterly consumed with their hungers and desires. By all account, they're little more than animals! Not a single record in the archives shows any ability to vocalize beyond a howl, much less engage in articulated speech-"

"Oh goodie, a lecture," Kyouraku jibed, his glare animating a face otherwise lined with deep shadows. "Good to see you're back to normal. Do you want to sit here and pontificate, or do you want to go home?"

Jyuushirou juggled the raw, raging emotions tearing through him - not to mention his shock at Kyouraku using a multi-syllabic word - and swallowed the hard. He weighed his options as the pit of his stomach roiled with acid.

"Home," he finally croaked. Screwing his eyes shut, he allowed a brief fantasy of Ugendo to flit through his mind – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately – and lowered his voice into tones of resignation. "You have any idea where we are?"

"Close enough," Shunsui replied, lurching to his feet and, a second later, dragging Ukitake up to join him. "I presume you're too shagged to flash yourself?"

"I can help," Ukitake returned petulantly, dragging himself to his feet and and reluctantly allowing Shunsui to gather the bulk of the reiatsu required for shunpo.

Muttering under his breath, Kyouraku wound reiatsu quickly and efficiently; only the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead spoke to how much work even that was in his weakened state. "Oh stuff it, pretty boy," he murmured when his chant broke free and gathered momentum of its own accord. "Save something for the ladies to swoon over."

"Shun-!" Ukitake's eyes widened in shock as he realized exactly what spell Shunsui had just incanted. He found himself throwing his free arm around Kyouraku's waist and grasping for dear life. "Can two people-?"

"Well, my dear Jyuu, we're about to find out." Shunsui flashed him a famous, incorrigible grin and stepped into the nearest shadow, dragging a howling Ukitake along with him.

* * *

"That," Ukitake rasped, his voice foreign to his own ears, "was without question the _worst_ thing I've ever gone through."

"Oh please," Kyouraku returned, his own voice rather ragged. "I thought it was bracing. You can't honestly say that was worse than nearly choking to death."

Ukitake was just about to protest that a hundred choking spells was still preferable to getting dragged through _Kageoni_ but was promptly deafened by a bellow.

"_WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE SEVEN HELLS?_" Yamamoto's voice thundered around them like a pissed-off avalanche, so scathing Ukitake could almost feel the flesh melt off his bones.

"Shingami Kyouraku, reporting in, sir," Shunsui replied with a credible attempt at a salute. Too bad the lop-sided grin all but ruined the effect.

Yamamoto-sutaicho rose to his feet and stalked across the small space to glare down at the bedraggled pair who had appeared, with little fanfare, on the floor of his administrative office. "What in the name of all the gods-!"

Ukitake flinched, but Shunsui did little more than drag himself into a credible military seiza and lock down the flaring reiatsu that had been required to transport them here so suddenly. "With all due respect, sutaicho," he gasped into the floorboards, "You asked me to report back as soon as I had information."

Ukitake had a brief moment to gape in astonishment at Kyouraku's suddenly military-correct demeanor before another soul appeared in the room.

"What's going on here?" Retsu, just the slightest bit flustered. Her sword was unsheathed.

"I have hooligans appearing in my office unannounced," Yamamoto-dono growled, blowing an annoyed breath through his mustaches.

Unohana-san looked from the two bedraggled boys on the floor to her commander-in-chief. She raised a single eyebrow.

"Heal them!" Yamamoto-dono roared. "They're bleeding on my tatamis."

Ukitake very nearly broke out into a giggle; everything was beginning to feel other-worldly and he absently wondered if he was going into shock. Retsu must have had similar concerns because she glanced at him with concern even as she dropped to a crouch at Kyouraku's side.

Shunsui waved her off. "We've got a problem," he said, locking gazes with the sutaicho.

Yamamoto-dono held up a hand; Retsu stilled. Ukitake watched on in a detached way that bordered on incoherence.

Genruusai's eyes glittered. "Hollows?"

"Smart ones. Smart _one_," Kyouraku specified. His look spoke volumes.

"Sentient," Yamamoto growled, one hand coming up to toy with the intricate braid trailing from his chin. "Not surprising-"

"All things considered." Kyouraku finished. "That's what you sent me out to confirm, isn't it?"

Yamamoto toyed with his beard another moment before speaking again. "How many did it lead?"

"Two dozen, that it showed. Which means twice that, easily." Shunsui found a bit of dirt on his robes, brushed it off. Yamamoto merely nodded, his gaze seeming to drift out to some point distant.

Ukitake glanced back and forth between them; they gave the impression of speaking a secret language, and no one had bothered to mention the most pressing detail. "It has my zanpaktou."

At that Yamamoto snapped around, his shrouded glance lasering in on Jyuushirou in astonishment. He glanced at Shunsui. "Is this true?"

Shunsui nodded wearily. "Never seen anything like it before. Handled the thing like it didn't even mind, like it was an ordinary sword."

Yamamoto looked at thunderstruck as Ukitake could imagine a stone could look. "Unprecedented," he whispered.

Kyouraku nodded, looking weary. "Damndest thing I ever saw."

Ukitake folded in on himself, misery washing over him. "Shun – it has my zanpaktou."

Shunsui glanced at him, then traded another one of those looks, this time with Retsu. "You should probably him to Fourth; he was dead when I found him."

Another silent thunderclap seemed to echo around the room as both Yamamoto and Retsu gaped. "Dead?" Retsu whispered, shooting a sharp look at Ukitake.

"Near enough," Shunsui replied with another wave of his hand. "That's not important right now; the important thing is to figure out what our next move is."

Ukitake barely noticed; he felt another shudder tear through him, resonating with the growing ache in the pit of his chest where his soul slayer had always thrummed comfortingly. He rubbed at his chest absently and fought the urge to retch. "What the hell does it want with a zanpaktou?"

"Would you give him a sedative or something? He's about to blow." Kyouraku, his tone equal parts annoyance and concern. Yamamoto said something then, and Retsu, but Ukitake could barely hear it above the roar in his head. The world tilted, lurched, and then through the thunder in his veins he heard a calm voice.

"Hold on, Jyuushirou-san," Retsu, strong. Apologetic. "This won't hurt, but you'll have to forgive me..."

Ukitake shook his head once, hands scrabbling frantically at his robes, and then the blackness enfolded him and everything faded away.

* * *

_He dreamed. Bad dreams, nightmares. In them, he watched his own heart beat its way free of his chest, tearing itself loose amidst breath-stealing agony, and then fly away from him into the darkness. Forcing himself through the pain, Ukitake dragged himself after it, trying to scream yet unable to breathe, unable to move fast enough as time and time again it slipped away into the abyss._

With a ripping gasp, Jyuushirou broke into consciousness and sat bolt upright.

"Holy flaming gods, why do you _do_ that!" A startled shriek erupted nearby. "Lordie, Moon-beam, you gotta have a better way of bring someone out of a coma."

"Trust me, this is the most gentle way. Other methods can be excruciating." Unohana insisted quietly.

"This way hurts a mite too, Precious Petal," Shunsui's unmistakeable voice grumped. "Not to mention it's scary as hell; it's like you raised him from the dead or something."

"I wouldn't be the only one," came the wry reply. A warm, soft hand brushed across Ukitake's forehead soothingly, the gesture as well as a subtle wash of reiatsu helping Jyuushirou to orient himself a bit better. "There now, it's alright. You're fine."

"I beg to differ," Ukitake choked, dragging another breath of fire through his ragged lungs. His chest hurt, and even the effort of sitting upright seemed to strain every muscle in his torso. He finally blinked his vision clear and took in his surroundings. Fourth Squad, obviously. No surprise there. Retsu and Shunsui hovering over him like a pair of fretted hens; again, no shock there. The rest of him felt like he'd been hung out to dry for about a week. "What'd I miss? How long was I under?"

Kyouraku grunted and crossed his arms, throwing a terse glare at Unohana. That, combined with his rubbery muscles, gave Ukitake a bad feeling. He fixed his hazel eyes on his friend-healer. "Retsu?"

"Two months," she answered quietly.

Ukitake's breath halted. He swiveled wide eyes to Kyouraku, who threw his hands up in the air.

"Don't look at me! She had me under almost as long. I've only been up for a few days." Shunsui looked at least half as pissed as Ukitake was.

And he was furious, he realized. Wordlessly, he returned his attention to Unohana who had the grace to blush although she met his accusing glare without flinching.

"You're lucky either of you is even _alive_, much less awake or asleep," she stated in a flat tone that bordered on its own kind of anger. "It took me at least a month to untangle the mess you two made of your reiatsu signatures, and that's before I even got around to stitching you back together inside your own skins." She tossed a rag down onto the tatamis in a fit of ire so unlike her it defused some of Ukitake's fury. Turning away, she set about gathering up several bundles of herbs and other tinctures into a small basket. "If you two want to run off hunting that Hollowess - only halfway armed, at that - then the least I could do was make sure you had half a chance of surviving the battle. You're welcome." Gathering done, she rose to her feet.

Jyuushirou's hand stopped her. "Thank you," he intoned earnestly, heat still coloring his expression. "I mean it Retsu; there's no question of our appreciation." He drew a shaky breath and cursed how weak his body still felt. Resolve surged through him, making up for it. "It's just..." _Two months. Holy gods_. He forced himself to be calm. "What's the news on the hollow?"

The other two exchanged a glance. "There is none. Nothing at all. All the raids have stopped, the shinigami disappearances ceased overnight. It's been quiet out there," Kyouraku snarled, looking every bit as eager and frustrated to take action. His eyes betrayed deep worry. "Assuming we can still track that thing."

Ukitake's eyes screwed shut; suddenly, he realized why his chest hurt so badly. There was an empty sensation between his lungs so profoundly _absent_ he half-expected to see an actual hole punched through his ribs. Steeling himself, he dove into the hollow ache and _searched_.

He was there for a long time, and to no solid conclusion. His eyes when he opened them met twin expressions of concern on his friend's faces. Agonized, Ukitake shook his head faintly. "I don't know. I can't feel anything specific. It's more like...an absence of nothing. There's _something_, I just can't..." He trailed off, squelching the tone of panic that had started to creep into his voice.

Kyouraku's hand enveloped Ukitake's shoulder, squeezing so hard it hurt. "If there's something, then that'll have to be enough." He stood, displaying much more strength of limb than Ukitake felt. "How soon can we clear medical release?"

Unohana bathed them both with an unhappy look. "I wouldn't have let you wake up unless you were as fit as could reasonably be managed at this point," she answered, looking more firmly at Ukitake. "But I can't stress enough how important normal sleep is. I can patch you up, but I can't replace your body with strength."

"Fuck that," Shunsui snapped, turning back to Ukitake. "We'll leave tomorrow. We can start where we were and fan out until you can get a better sense of your zanpaktou's trail-"

"No." Ukitake swallowed bile. Reluctantly, he shook his head. "Retsu's right, I can barely sit up. And we need time to come up with a better plan than just wandering around." He looked at his friend, dark shadows etching the skin under his eyes. "We've lost months; a few more days isn't going to make a difference." Besides, he couldn't say it aloud, but there was something about that faint impression, that distant wisp of sensation, that niggled at him, like a dream only half-remembered, details lost in haze. Bothered by it, he dropped back onto his pallet and let his eyes slide shut. "Just let me get some sleep. We'll make a plan in the morning..." He didn't even finish his sentence before drifting off to sleep again.

* * *

He didn't make it through the night. Sometime just past midnight, he snapped awake, sitting bolt upright again but this time without uttering a sound. He sat very, very still in the darkness while the idea - the thought, the half-remembered dream - coalesced into a rock-hard diamond. By the time Retsu and Shunsui - alerted by the surge in his power signature - appeared at his bedside, he _knew_.

"I know what it wants. It doesn't want my sword. It wants _me_." Ukitake declared quietly. In the dark, he found Shunsui's eyes, deep pools in the moonlight. "Or more specifically, it wants _us_. Both of us."

Shunsui just shook his head slowly, uncomprehending. "Look, Jyuu, I know you just got out of a Retsu-induced coma and all that, but don't push yourself. We'll go find the Hollowess' lair, come back and get Old Man Yama to order the rest of the squad out in force and crush this thing to bits-"

"No!" Ukitake barely noticed himself shouting. "You're not seeing it – that's _exactly_ what it wants."

Silence fell again; this time, it was Kyouraku who looked at him askance. "Uh, look, Jyuu…maybe you should just go back to sleep. You're not talking sense."

On the contrary, Ukitake never felt more crystal clear than this moment. "Think about it," he said quietly, urgent. "Think of what it was _doing_ all those weeks. It takes out a team here, a team there. Never enough pattern to find it, just enough mystery and confusion to draw more and more of us out into the open." He got up and started to pace, unheeding of the stares aimed in his direction. He spoke as if to himself. "Even at the end, with Okatu-san, it waited until I was gone for a moment, just a moment or two….it killed him, but left him there to draw my attention. To draw me in." His gaze snapped up, eyes green as emeralds. "In the glen, it spoke of bait, Shunsui. Don't you get it?" His voice rose into a pitch that set his own hair on end. "_We're_ not hunting _it_. _It's_ hunting _us_."

Kyouraku's head tilted to the side; not in disbelief, but as if he was suddenly seeing things from a different perspective. He was silent a long time. "You're suggesting the kind of strength Hollows haven't had in decades. Not since the founding of Sereitei."

Ukitake glanced at Unohana. She did nothing to enter the conversation, only watched him closely. Ukitake swallowed, hard. "There's no way to prove the Great Purging cleansed the civilized lands of all hollows. A few from the old times may have survived. And," he took a deep breath, "if one did, it would be insanely strong."

"And smart." Kyouraku's eyes glittered like flint.

"Brilliant, even," Ukitake added grimly. "Smart enough to pick us off one by one, two by two…and then when it got close enough to its goal, to finger two of the strongest and use them as bait to draw the rest out in force."

"And crush the shinigami once and for all." Kyouraku's lips very nearly curled up; he nodded, slightly. _Good job, smartass_, his eyes seemed to say.

Ukitake's lips curled faintly up in reply.

Together, they turned and looked at Retsu.

The healer met their look for a full minute before sighing. "You realize what you're suggesting borders on treason."

"It's only treason if it isn't true," Shunsui muttered, a rougish grin starting to spread across his face.

Retsu glared at him. "You do realize what you two sound like? Delusion isn't uncommon after what you two have been through, and here you are postulating some great adventure that you're conveniently at the center of. And do _not_ think I didn't notice you qualifying yourselves as the strongest shinigami in the Gotei!" she added with a huff, using a tone that should have had them quivering in their boots.

Instead, Ukitake found himself very nearly grinning as well. "Hey, if you have any objections, speak them now."

Unohana held out for a respectable minute before she sniffed and reduced her glare from incendiary to merely perturbed. "I suppose you two hairbrains have an idiodic plan of some sort?"

"We go in alone."

"Just the two of us." One could barely tell where Ukitake left off and Shunsui took over.

The next snort was decidedly derisive. "I said 'idiodic', not 'stupid' nor 'suicidal'," Uonhana growled, before getting to her feet and dusting herself off. She turned and glided towards the door, finishing her thought over her shoulder. "Well, there's nothing for it then. Get some sleep, you leave at dawn.

And," she added just before she slipped out of the room, "I am going with you."


	19. Mission Impossible, Part 2

"Just so we're all perfectly clear on this," Unohana murmured in the infinitesimal interludes between flashsteps, "The three of us - two of whom were comatose mere days ago - are hurtling head-long into what is most likely a trap set by a Hollow whose strength and intelligence approaches levels unheard of for decades."

"Bullseye!" Kyouraku affirmed with his trademark grin. "Bracing, isn't it?"

Unohana shook her head even as she increased her speed to match theirs. "More like madness, I'd say."

Shunsui quirked an eyebrow at her. "Then why'd you come along, princess?"

"Because this is such pure madness, it might _actually_ work," she replied sweetly, her return smile anything but. "Besides, when the time comes, you'll need backup."

"Well, there's a vote of confidence for ya," Kyouraku grumped, deliberately speeding up slightly.

Beside him, Unohana sniffed and matched his pace without apparent effort. "You have no idea what we're diving into. Planning for the worst is simply practical."

"Practical, my ass..."

"I've seen your backside, Kyouraku-san. It is not as impressive as-"

"Would you two keep it down?" Ukitake interjected, not quite keeping the lid on his frustration. "I can barely feel him as it is." His jaw snapped shut against the hint of panic in his voice.

"But you _can_ feel him," Unohana half-asked, her expression full of concern.

"I think so."

At that Shunsui halted, robes swirling around his ankles. "'I think so' doesn't exactly cut it, Pretty Boy. I can do 'crazy'; futility not so much. _Tell_ me you know where we're going."

Ukitake ground to a halt as well, working hard to keep the desperate grimace off his face. He drew in a ragged breath and, screwing his eyes shut, forced himself to concentrate. To reach deep withing himself...

Minutes passed.

Ukitake slowly shook his head, lines reappearing on his forehead. "East." Stormy green eyes opened, sparkling in the fading sunlight. Shoulders hitched up miserably. "I _have_ to go east. That's all I can tell you."

Shunsui regarded him carefully before blowing out a sharp breath. "East it is," he echoed with far too much enthusiasm. Pivoting on his heel and gathering reitasu, he threw another look over his shoulder at Unohana. "Still time to turn back, Moon Beam."

"I told you," she replied placidly. "When the time comes, you're going to need me."

"Well, you're just inspiring me with confidence," Shunsui grumped, albeit quieter than before. He seemed to at least be making a nominal effort not to distract Ukitake. "No offense Bright Eyes, but I've only ever seen you stitch people together with that zanpaktou of yours. Does it even _do_ combat?"

"You have to know how to take a thing apart in order to learn how to put it back together again," Retsu replied in a tone so sugary-sweet it set Ukitake's hair on end.

Jyuushirou and Shunsui exchanged a glance - and Ukitake could swear the other paled a shade beneath his tan skin - but at last, conversation lapsed. Whether that was due to Retsu's words or Ukitake's own need to concentrate he would never recall, because it was right then that the woods thinned around them and, with a final blaze of shunpo, they reached the coast.

Ukitake had heard about the sea, read about it in books, seen paintings of it. They'd always, even at his youngest memories, stirred him with a deep sense of longing and wonder.

Nothing prepared him for seeing it in person for the first time.

It stretched as far as the eye could see, glittering like a million jewels, the low sun setting a pathway of fire light ablaze on its surface. The briny air filled his lungs and Ukitake took a deep breath, deeper than his damaged lungs had ever drawn before, and had no fear at all of repercussion. The first wave that crashed to the shore at his feet resonated all the way down to his toes and his head swam with the sheer power on display before him. The sun slowly dipped its way towards the horizon, singing its siren song through his veins as gulls dipped and swelled in the offshore winds. It was like a work of god's-art, breathing and pulsing with universal rhythm spoiled only by a distant, dark smudge of storm clouds ghosting the horizon.

"Hey, there. You're going to age me into next week if you keep staring like that."

At Shunsui's growl, Ukitake started, blinking salt tears out of his eyes. He shivered, realizing with a jolt that the sun had sunk beyond the edge of the world and darkness was settling in. Shaking his head, he quickly calculated that he must have been standing there, stock still in the rough sand, for over an hour; it had seemed like seconds.

"Sorry," he muttered to his friends, cheeks ablaze. Kyouraku eyeballed him askance, making a show out of warming his hands by a small driftwood fire - and when had they made camp? - but Retsu was smiling a small, secret smile.

"Don't apologize," she murmured, offering him a rice ball procured from a small satchel. Her eyes were shining. "Your reiatsu has never been so rejuvenated."

Ukitake's forehead crumpled at her as he sank to the sand and gratefully accepted sustenance. "I guess so," he mumbled around his first mouthful, his gray-green eyes drawn inexorably back to the vista. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before." His voice was barely audible, his attention caught up again by the whisper and hiss of the tide.

A sharp sound brought him back; Shunsui's thick, calloused fingers snapped an inch away from his nose. Ukitake jerked back, glaring.

Retsu tusked, earning him a glare from Kyouraku. "He creeps me out when he does that," Shunsui groused.

"Do _what_?" Ukitake snapped, looking down at his empty hand to realize his dinner was done and the fire was burning out. He shot a confused look at Retsu, who smiled back benignly.

"Zone out," Shunsui supplied snarkily. "It's like you're in love with the damn thing." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the now-invisible waves, their rushing, retreating rhythm even louder in the darkness.

Ukitake could just make out the foaming break-caps in the half-moon light of full night. "I've never been to the ocean before. I've only read about it in books. They were my favorite stories," he trailed off, cheeks warming in a way that made him grateful for the dying fire and starlight.

"It's just water," Shunsui muttered in the darkness, the soft rustling of his robes suggesting he was settling in for some sleep. The thickness of his voice wrapped awkwardly around a yawn gave one the impression that Kyouraku would be asleep in seconds.

Jyuushirou replied anyway, settling back onto his crooked arm and focusing his gaze on the twinkling lights in the velvety black sky above, ocean smells and sounds filling his nose and ears.

"I just didn't think it would be so beautiful," he whispered to the heavens.  
Improbably, he dropped into a deep abyss of sleep.

The tide roused him. Ukitake sat straight up, eyes on the ever-shifting, prismatic display of power and force before him as the sky lit up with pearlesque beauty. He must have lost time again, because by the time he blinked and turned to face his friends, they were awake, alert and kneeling silently, watching him with sharp intensity.

"North," he breathed, more certain of that than his own name. "We go north."

* * *

It was well past mid-morning before they slowed their break-neck pace. Shunsui felt his robes practically smoldering from all the shunpo he'd fired off since sunrise, skittering to a halt and rotating to check on Unohana - right there with them, hardly winded it seemed - before anchoring his gaze on Ukitake. He filled his lungs with salty air, blew it out. "Well?"

Jyuushirou - curse his pretty, angular features - hovered for a moment, breath held, before shaking his head sharply. "I don't get it," he muttered, barely audible, pivoting on his heel in at least three directions before stilling in that eerie way he'd found since first setting eyes on the sea. Seconds dragged by while creases marred his forehead. "I feel them stronger than ever, why can't I...-?"

The small hairs on Shunsui's neck rose. _Them?_ It was the first time ever that Jyuushirou had referred to his zanpaktou in the plural. Not that Shunsui minded - he was hardly one to judge - but even with his double swords, there was a sense of one-ness. This sudden paradigm shift in the way Jyuushirou addressed his soul source was...unnerving?

_Unexpected_. A whisper from the back of his soul. Kyouraku firmly sidelined it.

"Okay," He said, his voice a smooth river of steel. "You've felt the pull until now. Weak, strong, whatever - you always knew where you were taking us...until seconds ago." He paused, expectant.

Jyuushirou twitched a nod, his eyes clearing as he pivoted. An endless moment slipped by as Ukitake ground himself, eyes closed, chin pointed down.

A second later, his eyes snapped open. "Here. We're here."

Shunsui's face wrinkled in confusion; it was Retsu's hand on his arm that charged him.

"Listen," she breathed. Her posture made him freeze.

He _listened_.

Thunder. Chocolate eyebrows quirked. "A storm?"

"No." Ukitake's voice, low, intense. He was still staring at the rock beneath his feet.

"Are you sure?" Shunsui argued, pivoting his own gaze to the horizon and into the off-shore wind; that black smudge in the distance had steadily encroached during their mad dash up the coastline - not that anyone but himself had probably noticed - and he could swear the wind carried on it the scent of ozone and chill brine: the scent of a storm.

"Positive." Ukitake snapped, wholly unlike him. Shunsui reluctantly turned his back to the sea, to find Ukitake still gazing intently downward. Eyebrows twitching, he glanced at Unohana, but she seemed to be similarly engrossed, her head tilted slightly to the side.

The sea roiled in agitation, thundering its secrets as if begging them to be unraveled.

A few more drum-rolls sounded beneath them before Jyuushirou's eyes snapped up, gleaming beneath their black eyebrows through thick bangs of pure white.

Retsu, Shunsui and Jyuushirou reached the same conclusion at exactly the same moment, speaking with one breath.

"Caves."

Shunsui's taut stomach slapped down onto the rock, feeling more than seeing his companions drop to the ground in unison. He crawled to the edge of the cliff, easing his head just far enough over the edge to glance down.

The height was dizzying; it was literally the tallest cliff Shunsui had ever seen. He gripped the boulder instinctively and glanced sideways; Retsu was at his right, similarly perched, eyes wide and expectant, not a hint of fear or trepidation on her face. In fact, with the sun glinting off the waves below and onto her smooth features, she looked...radiant.

Shunsui cleared his throat and refocused beyond her and nearly switched to a growl; Ukitake was dangling much further over the edge, eagerness winning out over caution. Another inch or two, and he risked a fall. Making his position even more precarious, he shot a hand downward, his face lighting up with something that was hard to look at.

_"There!"_

How Shunsui cleared Retsu he'll never know, but it was his hand on Ukitake's shoulder that kept the kid from pitching straight off the cliff. "_Watch it_," he hissed, gaze molten.

"Sorry," Ukitake muttered insincerely, although his expression had a hint of thanks mingled poorly with his excitement. "It's just below us, about halfway up the cliff-face. I think we can lower ourselves down there-"

"Fuck that." Shunsui gave one last yank to make sure his friend was firmly planted on the boulder before leaping into shunpo.

In a flash he was on the shore, wet sand crunching beneath his sandals as cool waves lapped at his heels. Both swords were drawn and balanced perfectly in his hands before he even finished glancing up at the two surprised faces so far, far above him.

Shunsui smirked and twitched his chin slightly to the side.

He was rewarded with twin expressions of chagrin before two quick flashes had his companions in arms dropping in beside him. Ukitake radiated embarrassment and an impressive blush.

"Shoulda thought of that."

Kyouraku wasn't done with him yet, lasering his friend with a glare. "Because you were too busy getting excited to stop and _think_. Haven't I taught you anything?" he hissed. A fraction of a second later he backed off, but only because Jyuushirou's expression had cleared into something approaching focus. "I followed you here, Ukitake Jyuushirou, and we are _going_ to get your swords back. But not if you act a damn fool and put yourself in harm's way."

Ukitake's blush vanished, replaced with a glower. "I don't need protection."

"You're unarmed." Ukitake paled further at Shunsui's snarl. "Use your demon magic, you're plenty good at it, but stay _behind_ me." His tone brooked absolutely no argument; still he waited until Ukitake kept his protests silent before he turned back to the rock face with a growl. "And don't fall off any damn cliffs, you hear me?"

Ukitake made a sound deep in his throat, but fell into formation without further protest. _Good_. "Might want to arm yourself, Moon Beam." Kyouraku, on point and in control of his assault team, finally turned his attention to the cliff face. The small gash was more visible from the ground, less than halfway up and easily accessible with shunpo.

"I will when the time comes," Retsu murmured in response, nonetheless dropping into battle stance behind him and across from Ukitake. In a combat situation on unknown territory, they could protect each other's backs and snap into an impenetrable triangle of defense in a heartbeat.

Shunsui smothered a sudden and intense appreciation for military training. "A vote of confidence at last," he muttered. "On three?"

Together, in perfect unison, they flashed themselves across tumbling boulders and into the cave.

Shunsui held them there, in the cave mouth, his breathing loud in his ears, louder than the roaring surf behind him. "Close your eyes," he commanded his team.

"Why-?" Ukitake, panting with barely-contained eagerness.

"The next leap is going to take us into pitch-black," Kyouraku whispered in a low growl. "From there, we walk. We'll need night vision."

He felt more than saw Ukitake's frown. "Why not illuminate?"

Shunsui shook his head, forgetting for a second how much less field-combat experience his friend actually had.

Retsu rescued him, speaking in a low, controlled tone that smoothed out the edges of tension. "Whatever's in there can see in the dark already. We'd illuminate _ourselves_, while putting ourselves at a visual disadvantage." Somehow, by the time she was finished with an explanation that Shunsui would have barked, he felt a clear and solid focus settle on the three of them.

Nothing more needed to be said. Within moments, when their eyes had adjusted, Shunsui carefully flashed, wordlessly and in perfect unison, with his team.

They landed in such total darkness as to be disorienting, even with their adjusted vision. Shunsui paused, letting the pitch settle in around them, robbing them of sight but enhancing every other sense. And it's not like they were without a sixth sense anyway...

_Which way?_ Shunsui didn't speak, he simply _leaned_ with his energy, his every nerve on high alert and his instincts on overdrive. Pure adrenaline flooded his veins.

Ukitake silently answered, wordlessly shifting his own reiatsu. _This way._ Beside him, Retsu's power signature hummed silently and with a depth that would have been stunning had Kyouraku had time to focus on it.

He didn't, he had a team to lead. Resolutely, Kyouraku advanced.

And so they crept into the black, down into the bowels of the earth, their spirit power communicating where their senses and voices could not. Never had Shunsui been so bereft of external stimuli - never so completely aware of his surroundings - never so lethally confident of his skill and of those at his back.

The surf's thunder faded behind them, replaced by tiny dripping sounds, ahead and to the right. Following those and Ukitake's silent urging, Shunsui followed the invisible trail, his step sure and swift, swords hovered in front of him and practically keening their eagerness. He felt the call of Katen Kyotetsu in the back of his teeth and held it there, on the cusp, yearning but restrained, as they dropped further underground.

Before long, a faint light appeared ahead, surprising them all. As it lay in the direction of Ukitake's focus, they drifted its way, slowing as they closed in on it and Shunsui's huge brown eyes could dart around and make sense of their sudden input.

The cave opened up ahead, from beyond which gleamed a thin, orange light. It flickered like firelight, amber tones licking up and down the gleaming rock all around them and, as one and silently, the trio sank to its heels behind an outcropping while Shunsui eased himself minutely around a rock face.

The whole earth broke open in front of him; an enormous cavern stretched off into the distance, fading into more pitch-black beyond which was anyone's guess.

The ground beneath them was teaming with Hollows. They crawled and writhed across the floor, walls, every visible outcropping like a hideous mockery of the sea now long hidden behind them. Black limbs seethed, ear-bending screeches filling the air in a low, roiling cacophony fit to set teeth on edge.

Ukitake's breath sucked in, loud in the dark and mere inches from Shunsui's ear. A slender arm slithered over his shoulder, Jyuushirou's skin fairly crackling with energy while it drew Kyouraku's gaze with a pointed finger.

On the far side of the cavern, lit with dripping torches of pitch, sitting on a rough dais hewn from molding, dripping rock, sat the Hollowess on a twisted estimation of a throne.

Across her lap lay Sogyou no Kotowari.

Every muscle in Shunsui's body froze rigid, his mind racing as he glanced rapidly across the distance and the capering, seething horde of hollows beneath them. It took him a split second to make his decision; putting his hand on Ukitake's arm, he drew them back from the edge.

Ukitake instantly resisted, but Shunsui whipped around and lasered him with a silent, molten glare. Ukitake glared back in equal measure for a long moment before his eyes frosted over and he relented...for the moment. Silently, they drifted back into the black, just far enough away from the cavern opening to risk hushed whispers, the tiniest hint of amber glow barely lighting their features.

"We can't turn back." Ukitake's angular face was hollowed with bleak fury in the weak illumination. Determination licked like lightening in the backs of his eyes.

"Never said we would," Shunsui husked, his mind racing. "We could draw them out, a few at a time. This caveway is narrow enough..." A muscle in his jaw twitched; how long would it take to clear the horde, a handful at a time? Katen shrieked in delight even as Shunsui's stomach sank. Hours, at least. Days, maybe.

In the dark, eyes looking bigger than ever, Retsu firmly shook her head. "They know these caves better than we do. There's no way to tell if they can't circle around and surround us."

Shunsui grimaced. Scenario after scenario flashed through his mind. They all ended with the three of them dead, torn apart by victorious hollows wielding Jyuushirou's swords. He glanced at Ukitake.

"Know any fancy spells that can detonate that large a mass?"

Jyuushirou's eyes clouded, his own thoughts racing across his features. His jaw twitched jerkily once, twice. "Hiryūgekizokushintenraihō. Possibly. It's supposed to produce an impressively enormous explosion."

Shunsui withered. "'Supposed to'? Ever fired one off?" He didn't even have to wait for Ukitake's grimace, turning to Unohana. "Well, sempai? Any ideas?"

She smiled serenely, something truly peaceful settling into her features. "Of course I have an idea. Just because you two flew in here without a plan doesn't mean I didn't have one in mind, just in case."

Shunsui knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his gaping maw was mirrored on Ukitake's face. "What plan?" he managed through the shock strangling his throat.

"Oh, it goes a little something like this," she replied in resonant tones as, without preamble and with her zanpaktou firmly sheathed, she vanished in a flash of shunpo.

For an instant and a half, Kyouraku thought she'd run. He honestly thought that she had somehow managed to rocket herself through hundreds of feet of pure rock up to freedom and was already outside, breathing fresh air and basking in the sunlight.

But that's only because she sent herself in the last direction Shunsui could have dreamed. It took Ukitake's gasp of horror, his hand clamping onto his shoulder in sheer panic, that sent his senses flying towards Unohana's re-assembling spirit body and its unmistakeable power signature. Time stood still as they both rushed back to the edge of the gaping, torch-lit cavern, their eyes widened with horror as they looked over the edge to see what they knew, what they could hardly believe. But had their eyes lied, their ears would have told the truth of a hundred-hundred Hollows screeching in surprised and delight and fury.

Unohana Retsu stood silently in the very center of the cavern, utterly and hopelessly surrounded. And her sword was still in its sheath.

Ukitake was moving before he could think, a dozen incantations dripping off his tongue like bitter venom. He didn't even know what he was casting, what he was doing, only that Hollows were everywhere and Shunsui was at his back, and somewhere in the sea of Hollows was Unohana. _Something_ he cast set off an explosion that nearly singed off his eyebrows...but it took down at least 30 Hollows and Shunsui was still at his side - albeit smoking faintly - and that was all that mattered.

That, and getting to Retsu.

Time sped up and compressed simultaneously. The universe shrank down to the next beat, the next breath, the next Hollow to fell. Screams ripped through his head, unheeded, as Ukitake shouted very incantation that came to mind, his thoughts a blur, while Shunsui whirled a dervish around him, his black swords drinking up the darkness while shimmering with Hollow-shatter. Every moment that wasn't his last was a surprise, every Hollow that appeared simply another obstacle to clear; nothing else existed.

And behind him, in his head, his heart, his very marrow, the storm broke and hurtled itself at the shore, its thunderous waves reverberating the stone like a bass drum...that beat that resonated up through his sandals and into his legs, anchoring him, traveling up into his arms and firing out through his finger tips, spell after spell, spells without names, anything, everything to live through this...

At his side, a cry: Shunsui, down on one knee, grasping a shoulder with one hand while the shorter of his swords skittered away from him into the black. Ukitake paused in confusion - he never saw the Hollow that either of them. The ground simply rushed up to meet him and as his cheekbone cracked against the rock, Jyuushriou absently tasted sea and brine and blood before the darkness claimed him.

* * *

"_Ungh_."

The sound he made didn't sound like his own; a blaze of agony washed through him as Ukitake took a ragged breath, coughed sharply, and drew another breath into a sea of pain. It was an eerily familiar agony; his lungs burned while he fought to breathe, the tang of blood and something else on his lips. It took him a moment to regain his breath, and then the last few minutes - hours? days? - slammed back to him in a rush.

He forced his eyes open, running his tongue over his cracked and bleeding lips. Ignoring the twinge in his chest, he forced himself to breath and take in his surroundings, as the taste in his mouth finally defined itself.

Blood, and defeat.

"Well, well, pretties finally found our home." The Hollowess preened, her sibilant voice resonating with the echoes of the cavern, the spitting torches, the distant roar of the storm-torn sea...and the overwhelming hiss of Hollows, just out of sight, barely under control. Ukitake was crouched at the foot of the dais - the rough outcropping they'd seen before. The light was better here, dark amber/crimson licks of fire illuminating the crude throne raised before him, and with a glance to the side, he saw Kyouraku's form crumpled figure on the ground nearby. Katen Kotetsu was laying on the dais, not far away, just out of reach...and Shunsui wasn't moving.

Ukitake twitched in his direction, throat too dry to speak, but a blade at his throat stopped him short.

It sang against his skin.

"Pretty should stay put, or pretty will die." Slowly, the Hollowess circled into his view, holding his own sword against him. Her grin was the sort of sight to drive a man mad, amber light sighing across her ivory mask.

Ukitake swallowed, tongue rough as sandpaper, and shot a glance at his prone friend. Shunsui was breathing, barely. "He's not dead," he croaked, breath catching. It was almost a question.

A shrug. "Soon enough." The creature's grin broadened, sharp fangs inches long gleaming in the dim light. "Pretty, pretty presents," it purred, giving Shunsui's prone form a glance that bordered on disinterested. "Pretty and prettier...and finally, _Prettiest_."

The soft incantation sent shivers along Ukitake's spine as the Hollowess drifted away from him, her stolen blade drifting away from his chin. Jyuushirou twitched to follow and found that he couldn't; he was trussed up like a holiday fowl, hands bound tightly at the small of his back, those bindings in turn snaking down to his ankles. He could crouch, barely, nothing more; Kyouraku seemed similarly bound, but it was hard to tell from the way he was crumpled. Blinking sweat and blood out of his eyes, Ukitake finally cleared his vision and took in the full scene before him.

Similarly bound, albeit her hands tied in front at her waist, Unohana knelt up on the dais in front of the Hollowess throne. A crude reed jutted under her jaw, fastened so as to force her slender chin upwards at a painful angle. Nonetheless, Retsu's enormous eyes were cast downward, dark lashes fanning across her cheeks, motionless. For all the world, she almost seemed to be meditating.

The Hollowess closed in on her like a cat closing in on a bird with a broken wing. "Prettiest by far," she uttered throatily, almost with lust, while she circled the kneeling figure, her glowing red eyes sunk deep in black pits drank in the sight of Minazuki. She lightly tapped Sogyou against Retsu's hitl; Ukitake thought his teeth were going to jar loose.

"Know this one, I do. Many of us do. Played, we have...long ago, in the wars." The Hollowess dragged up the edge of Sogyou no Kotowari and ghosted the edge of Retsu's jawline, the creature's entire form trembling with dark, eager victory. "You are mine, now. Here."

Ukitake nearly swooned at the gut-wrenching terror that he was going to watch - feel? - Retsu's impalement on his own zanpaktou. The storm thundered somewhere beyond the rock, ricocheting through his entire body, exacerbating his disorientation. _If only I could MOVE-!_

"Here. So far underground," Retsu said softly, into tension so thick it could be cut with a zanpaktou. "You've hidden yourself well."

"Hidden," the Hollowess hissed in fury. "Had no choice; you and the other, kill kill...just KILL!" The thing actually dripped spittle from its maw, its grip on Sogyou's hilt sending steel bands around his temples. "But you don't kill us all. We run, hide. Grow." The creature seemed to calm slightly, using Sogyou to indicate a wide swipe into the hidden horde. "Find a way, draw you here. Kill _YOU_."

Out of the black, the low hissing resonated in a thick, hate-filled rumble of delight.

It rolled off Unohana like water off a duck's back. "You haven't killed anyone yet." Slowly, with all the patience in the world, she lifted her gaze just high enough to take in Kyouraku, slumped. Her gaze paused for a second, just long enough for the slightest fluctuation of energy to emanate from her as she turned her eyes to meet Ukitake's. Something in those dark pools pinned Ukitake to the ground with...reassurance?

Beside him, Shunsui stirred minutely and groaned.

Ukitake nearly slumped in relief, fighting down another wave of terrified nausea as the Hollowess hissed and drew Sogyou's edge deep enough under Unohana's chin to bite the flesh. It hovered on the brink of drawing blood; Ukitake could feel her pulse thrumming, just beneath it. He sucked in his breath, held it, like a lake of fire in his chest.

Finally, Retsu turned her eyes to the creature's, no trace of anything in their depths but pure calm. "I remember you," she intoned. "And I will tell you a secret: you haven't been drawing us in. We've been drawing you out." Deep within her dark eyes, certainty akin to religious fervor setting her features alight. And just like that, the kneeling figure seemed to loom over the creature before her.

The effect on the Hollowess was instant. "_ENOUGH!_" it screeched, losing composure as it loomed over its captive. "You first, now! I can take my time with the others later," it seethed, adjusting its grip on Sogyou no Kotowari's hilt. "Too long, I have waited for this..." it trailed off rapturously, setting its feet in an unmistakeably offensive stance.

Ukitake blanched.

"Too long," Retsu agreed, her lips curving up into a serene smile before closing her eyes. Folding her bound hands together, she spoke in the hushed tone of a prayer. "Time to end this. _ Ittō Kasō._"

The room split open in a blaze of reiatsu.

Ukitake fell back, blown halfway across the cavern with Shunsui tumbling alongside him. Amidst the chaos, he could feel the other stir, shift, and he knew his friend was regaining conscience just barely in time to witness what few other souls had ever seen.

A shock of reiatsu, blazing in a form of Hado completely unfamiliar to Ukitake, speared through the cavern like a shock of pure sunlight. Shaped in the form of a katana, it ripped the very air apart, shattering any Hollow in its path - all but the Hollowess who barely leaped clear, shrieking in fury.

The spell exploded upwards; firmly anchored on the dais, just in front of its caster, the magic expanded and shot forward, up...and sliced straight through the roof of the cavern like a hot knife through butter. The entire cavern rocked and shuddered violently at the assault, rocks cascading down from above as the ground tore open under the onslaught, the entire cliff face heaving in protest at the dual assault of reiatsu and the ocean storm which was just reaching its crescendo above.

For one endless moment, all was eerily still. And then, the roof was melting, breaking open in a sea of sparks and dissolving into lava as without preamble, a power signature the size and weight of the sun dropped through the opening created by the Hado and into the depths of the cavern.

Even the Hollows were silent as the faint hints of sunlight - dark and silvery from the storm unleashing above - drifted down through the rift in the earth to illuminate the new arrival.

The figure slowly raised itself from his crouch, black obi pealing off broad shoulders like a snake shedding its skin. Along with the motion came a wave of searing heat so scorching it blackened the hairs on Ukitake's skin.

He barely noticed Shunsui, awake and hardly oriented, crouching behind him, but when the latter rested a hand on his shoulder, Ukitake realized they were both trembling.

There, in the center of the cavern, seething blistering waves of reiatsu, was Genruusai Yamamoto.

Time stopped entirely.

Ukitake watched the scene play out before him from a great distance, seeing as his sanity and reason had long since fled.

"_You_." Yamamoto's growl could have split rocks open. "I should have known." Eons passed while he swept his hooded, silent gaze around the torn enclosure. "You've rebuilt your army."

The Hollowess rose, still bearing Ukitake's sword. It seemed angrier - and yet, somehow, smaller - than ever before. "Still plenty of us left," it spat, grip tightening on Sogyou's hilt - and around Ukitake's throat, it felt. Shunsui's death-grip on his shoulder was all that kept him anchored as Jyuusirou drank in the madness in front of him.

Yamamoto strode slowly forward, each footfall sizzling and leaving glowing footprints of gleaming lava in his path. Gone was the twisted, gnarled walking staff; a katana of pure fire gleamed and writhed in a gnarled first the size of a ham hock. He didn't so much as glance in Ukitake and Shunsui's direction.

"Plenty," the Hollowess shrieked, cutting the air with its stolen weapon and reeking of desperation fueled by pure hatred and fury. "Never gone, we are! NEVER! We are always here! Kill us now, tomorrow; underground, under sky! NEVER GONE!" Its cry tore the air, and the heretofore silent horde took up the cry and seethed forward, baring itself just on the edge of the feeble, charged light and thick precipitation that rained down from the gaping rift above.

Genruusai reached the dais and took a step up, another, onto its meager height. He spared, finally, a single glance at Retsu, who was still kneeling, off-kilter and panting faintly. Somehow she'd broken her bounds. Yamamoto's gaze rested on her for a heartbeat, on her tattered and bloody robes, before he returned his focus to the trembling harridan before him.

"I will kill you. And kill your followers. And any more that follow." The quiet words dripped like molten fire from his lips, calm and unhurried and certain and pure destruction as he palmed his sword and quietly, oh so quietly, began to whisper.

And just like that Unohana was suddenly crouching before Ukitake, before Shunsui, her enormous eyes filled his vision as she spoke, quietly in her own right. Thoroughly overwhelmed and probably descending into shock, Ukitake couldn't make out the exact words, only that her sword was finally drawn.

Also, Retsu's left arm was completely gone.

A cool, green-glass colored fog began to gather around them and the world faded away.

* * *

Time lost all meaning.

"Where are we?"

Ukitake knew he'd asked the question, although it was absorbed like a whisper into a thick fog. He was kneeling, hands splayed along his thighs, in a relaxed posture that remained keenly alert. Of _what_, he was not sure; all he could discern was both Unohana and Kyouraku kneeing close by, in identical stances.

Kyouraku was silent, attentive. Watching them both.

Retsu smiled, broader than was common for her. "We're safe."

Ukitake nodded quietly, accepting. Another question slowly came to him. He glanced in muted alarm at Unohana's robes. "Your-"

"All better now. See?" Retsu stretched out her arms - both of them, hale and whole, no trace of lingering injury. "We all are."

That was true; Kyouraku seemed completely fit, and Ukitake felt better than he had in ages. "You healed all of us?" he asked in hushed tones. "_That_ quickly?"

"No," Retsu giggled, a young, giddy sound. "Minatzuki did."

Wide-eyed, Ukitake took a closer look at the green, glassy haze that encircled them. It shifted, like a sea-colored Kaleidoscope, and he had the faint impression that they were floating serenely along like a sting ray through an azure sea.

Kyouraku voiced it first. "What's going on out there?"

Retsu's features tightened minutely, but she retained her calm demeanor. Regarding them each in turn, her smile dimmed a watt. "Armageddon," she whispered.

"Backup," Shunsui grunted, a wry grin of amusement twisting his lips. "It was never you, was it? What that your plan, that Old Yama would follow us if you came along?"

Retsu shrugged minutely. "I knew a spell that would draw the right kind of attention at the right time, that's all." Despite her calm, she absently rubbed her left arm. The ghost of remembered pain flickered through her eyes. "We've met this Hollowess before, you see. A long time ago. Only one thing would stop it, after all this time..." She trailed off, still gazing somewhere _outside_.

Kyouraku shook his head slowly. "Unohana-_sempai_, your sword doesn't fight, does it?"

Retsu regarded him silently. She took her time answering. "No. Not the way you mean."

Ukitake's curiosity flared, even in this quiet, serene place. "What do you mean?" he asked gently, apology coloring his tone.

At it, she smiled appreciatively, still taking time to marshal her reply. Sea-green-glass colored and swirled around them in myriad, soothing colors and patterns. Slowly, she spoke.

"There are many zanpaktous in the universe," she said, barely above a whisper. Ukitake strained to hear her, Shunsui's own shifting stance indicating his attention. Retsu continued, soft, lyrical. "Some are kidou-based. Some elemental. Many, many of them combat." Her tone sharpened towards the end, causing ukitake to flush faintly, for what reason he couldn't fathom. She continued. "And then...there are swords that defy reason. Defy definition. Swords that should, by all rights, _never be_."

The hairs on Ukitake's neck raised.

"There are swords - soul sources - that could rend the universe apart...should they so desire." Retsu's large eyes were cast downwards, but her fingers tightened on her thighs, her posture betraying a tension all at odd with this serene haven. "Souls that could-should-were meant to destroy. And," she whispered with a shudder almost akin to pleasure -"souls that were meant to create. Rebuild. Put back what once was."

Unohana fell silent once more. This time - even in this gentle place - it was pained.

Ukitake swallowed, trying to absorb everything.

Trust Shunsui to speak first. "Swords of chaos," he breathed, glancing at the shifting, sea-glass barrier enshrouding them...no doubt envisioning what was going on beyond it.

That's when Ukitake found his voice. "And of creation. Balance," he breathed. It felt like an averment.

A ripple went through Unohana like a stiff breeze through saplings, for once making her look small and tired. Slowly, pained, she opened her eyes and looked at him. She smiled a slow, sad smile, finally turning to look at the barrier herself.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we?" she whispered from somewhere deep within her soul. The pure, unadulterated affection in her voice made Ukitake blush.

Thankfully, Shunsui's candor saved the day. "Unstoppable Force meets Immovable Object," he murmured appreciatively, giving Retsu a look Jyuushirou had never seen him give a woman before. "You're more than meets the eyes, Moon-Beam. How long have you two known each other, really?"

Ukitake's blush deepened; the question felt unseemly for some reason. Retsu fielded it with grace, smiling in a way that was equal parts radiance and sorrow. "A very, very, _very_ long time," she replied and rose gracefully to her feet, holding her hands out to both of them.

"Come," she said by way of reply, taking each of their hands in hers and with her eyes encouraging them to complete the circle. As the gathered, she grinned at them radiantly. "It is done. Time to go home."

Shunsui hesitated, glancing at the barrier one last time as he grasped Retsu and Jyuushirou each in one stone-firm grasp. "What if there are any survivors out there?" he asked quietly.

"We're the only survivors," Retsu replied in a tone so soft it chilled Jyuushirou's skin. She firmed her grip even as her voice simultaneously softened and resonated with assurance. "_Trust me_."

As one they joined hands, and Unohana's shikai dissolved around them.


	20. Darkest Before Dawn

"I don't believe you," declared a very intoxicated Matsumoto, her inebriation demonstrated in no small part by the name she proceeded to say without so much as a hitch. "Gin and I traveled _everywhere_. I've been all over the coast and there's no such thing as these 'thunder cliffs'."

"Ah, yes." Ukitake rubbed his neck with a hand, cheeks pinking. "Eh…well that's because they're not really…there. Anymore." He shrugged sheepishly.

Matsumoto's eyebrows - as well as those of the rest of the remaining SWA members - crawled upwards. "Not where?" she asked, pretty mouth a moue of confusion.

Shunsui snorted and shifted himself, a casual maneuver that somehow smacked of discomfort. "You ever go far enough north to the hit the deadlands?" he asked his favorite drinking partner.

Rangiku's blue eyes clouded in concentration. "Well, yeah. But it's all just old lava fields, nothin-" she choked off.

Shunsui winked at her. "Yeah, that would be the place."

Matsumoto's eyes couldn't have gotten larger. "But...it's a wasteland," she whispered, skin paling.

Jyuushirou twitched, uncomfortably close to a forbidden subject but feeling obligated to explain. "Yes, well. There's a reason Yama-jii rarely lets loose," he offered feebly.

Rukia's eyes were about ready to fall out of her head. "You _saw _his bankai?" she asked hoarsely.

"No no no!" Ukitake rushed to assure his audience, hands flapping feebly. "Gods, no. I can't even imagine-" He actually blanched further than his usual shade of pale.

"We don't know what it was," Shunsui supplied, to the rescue of his tipsy friend. "We were inside a giant squid-"

"Whale."

"-whatever, if you recall. Whatever Yama-jii did, it was...effective. That's all we can tell ya." Kyouraku punctuated that with a long draught of sake.

"_Very_ effective," Ukitake muttered, absently fingering his zanpaktou as if unaware of the motion.

Rukia noticed, though. "So, you got your sword back." She proceeded to hiccough loudly and blush.

Ukitake smiled at her kindly. "Yes, I did. Obviously." He grinned to take the sting out and sank presently into his lecture tone. "Despite being in the possession of a Hollow for an extended period of time, there was no apparent lingering effects uncovered during elaborate testing-"

"And Sereitei lived happily ever after, for a while anyway," Shunsui abbreviated with a rude sneer. He tipped a bottle to his lips, nearly keeling over in the attempt to get the last few drops out of it. He righted himself, glaring at the empty bottle.

Ukitake sighed. "Allow me," he offered, getting to his feet with somewhat less grace than usual.

Shunsui adopted a pathetically grateful expression. "Get the stuff from my room, it's way better than military issue."

"No kidding," Ukitake replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The room swayed.

"I'll come with you." Nanao Ise appeared at Jyuushirou's side, looking remarkably sober. She was frowning for some reason, and when she glanced up at him - pushing her glasses up her nose in the process - she looked slightly desperate for an escape. "It's only appropriate that a taicho have an escort."

"Oh please, he knows his way around here blindfolded." Shunsui scoffed.

"It's much appreciated," Ukitake said quickly, nodding faintly at Nanao-sutaicho. Gratefulness ghosted her expression. "I'll be back in a moment," Ukitake finished as he made his exit. Behind him, he heard Shunsui launching into a raunchy story about a brothel and Jyuushirou was suddenly glad for the escape.

The cool night air felt sinfully good against skin flushed with sake. Ukitake took several deep breaths - measuring them carefully against the hitch in his lungs always hovering just out of reach - and glanced down at his companion. "You really don't need to trouble yourself," Ukitake murmured. "I do know my way."

"I'm sure you do, Taicho." Nanao continued to keep apace.

Curious. "I'm sure you've got mountains of paperwork just waiting for you in the morning, and you know he won't do it. If you want to slip off, now's the time. It will be our secret," Jyuushirou finished with a wink he hoped was both soothing and conspiratorial.

Nanao Ise, totally out of character, flushed crimson in the dark and seemed to shrink. "I do my duty, Taicho," she said remotely.

Ukitake's eyebrows rose and pinched together. "Are you alright, fukutaicho?"

Ise flushed, glancing up at him from behind the safety of her lenses. "It's been an interesting night," she replied, voice thread-thin.

"Indeed," Ukitake agreed, alarm halting his steps at the edge of the main 8th Squad square. "Nanao-fukutaicho, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ise snapped. Between one heartbeat and the next, she seemed to shrink in on herself. "I just don't usually drink. Is all. I don't know what I'm saying."

Suddenly sober, Ukitake evaluated her critically. "You've hardly compromised yourself. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing!" Ise actually shouted before a blush and a shock of horror in her expression recalled her to herself. "I just..." She pushed her glasses up. "I need sleep. More than I need another endless night watching my _Taicho _get soused." There was an ocean of frustration behind the stressed word, and something glistened behind her lenses.

_Tears? _ Ukitake's brain and instincts snapped into overdrive; he put the pieces together in a split second. He stilled and watched Ise for a long moment. When he spoke, his words had the effect of a stiff breeze on a sapling.

"He's a good man."

"He's my taicho." Nanao's reply was perfunctory despite her trembling. She refused to look at him.

Ukitake nodded solemnly. "Yes. Yes, he is." Turning on his heel, he strode between two buildings and headed for the darkness beyond.

"Ukitake-taicho?" Confusion laced Nanao's voice as she hesitated and then rushed after him. "Are you alright?"

"Quite." Ukitake cleared the 8th ward grounds and strode into the surrounding woods, looking for just the right log to sit on.

"Where are you going?" Nanao-sutaicho's voice radiated concern.

Ah, there it was. Settling himself carefully on a fallen tree trunk, Jyuushirou smoothed his robes and patted the bark next to him. "Come here."

Nanao's face creased in suspicion. "Taicho...?"

"I'm an old man, and I need to sit for a moment," Ukitake parried. "Sit with me, since you've taken upon yourself the duty of escorting me." It served to draw her closer; tentatively, Nanao half-sat on the log, eying him warily.

Jyuushirou drew a measured breath. It burned. "Besides, I need to tell you a story."

In a flash, Nanao was on her feet again, eyes flickering in a dozen different directions as if looking for encroachments. "Ukitake-taicho, this isn't necessary. It's late and the others-"

"This story isn't meant for them," Ukitake replied quietly. He paused before indicating the log again. "Indulge me."

She hesitated, looking agonized. "I don't think-"

"I insist." This time, Ukitake let the ring of command enter his voice, just enough to procure obedience.

Nanano sank to his side, looking pale. "I really don't see what this has to do with anything," she said, breathless.

"Oh, it probably doesn't. It's just," Jyuushirou sighed, a strained, wearied sound. He felt inexorably tired. "We might all be dead soon, and some secrets were never meant to be taken to the grave." Feeling Ise stiffen beside him, Ukitake let his eyes close, his mind drifting backwards in time. "Things get lost in time, Nanao Ise. Lost, but not forgotten."

Nanao drew breath as if to speak; UKitake silenced her with a raised hand, eyes still closed.

"If you're going to put your life on the line for someone, you should understand that person. As full as possible. Oh, I know," he replied to another sharp intake of breath, forestalling yet another futile attempt to argue. "There's duty and all that. But love..." And here he drifted off to absolute silence. He let it linger for a second before permitting his lips curl up in a heart-breakingly sad smile.

"Oh, love can do so much more, Ise." He took a deep breath and before either of them could lose their courage, began to speak in resolute, measured tones.

"This is not a tale told lightly, or to anyone undeserving. It's a tale buried under eons, one that can only be told to the right person, for the right reasons."

"I shouldn't be hearing this." The faintest of whispers. "If he wanted me to know, he'd-" Ise choked off.

Ukitake melted, his heart breaking. "Ah, but my dear…this isn't a story he _won't _tell, but a story rather that he _cannot_ tell. He won't even speak of it to me, although I have waited for it. But of anyone else alive, he would want you alone to hear it." Steeling himself, Ukitake took a deep breath of sharp, cold night air and let his voice take on a mind of its own.

"Ise Nanao, tonight I will tell you the story of Shironen."


	21. Shironen

With a grunt, Ukitake blocked a low swing to his right flank, shifting on the balls of his feet to answer with a lightning-fast upswing. The squad-mate before him barely blocked it, but his zanpaktou held and with a grimace, he sidestepped into a vicious left-hand swing. Jyuushirou could barely keep the grin off his face as he pivoted to meet it, letting his blade dance off the edge of his opponent's and into the familiar cadence of sparring.

"Good," Ukitake panted, letting his lips curl up in what he hoped was an encouraging expression as he tossed his sweat-slicked bangs out of his eyes. "You've got strength, and determination. But you're a little too predictable." To underscore his words, he out-maneuvered the upper cut he knew was coming and lunged inside his squad-mates' defenses, knocking his blade free with a jarring blow to wrist while dropping to one knee and halting his zanpaktou half an inch from his opponent's torso.

He froze, glancing up at Akio-san with a benign grin. Akio raised his hands in surrender and then took a step back from the blade, a grin springing free on his face as well.

"One of these days I'll force you to a draw," he said good-naturedly, respect in his eyes as he offered a hand.

"I sincerely hope so," Ukitake replied honestly, taking the shake and stepping back to offer a respectful bow in return.

Jyuushirou absolutely loved sparring with his comrades. It was more than just an exercise to him; he loved pushing others and teaching them to expand their skills. It was entirely different from fighting Kyouraku. Shunsui pushed him to his very limits, challenging him in a way few others could. But sparring with those of lesser skills and power taught Ukitake restraint, subtlety, shrewdness. It was a balance between quantity over quality, each side of the same coin offering him more chance to experience and learn combat from different ends of the same spectrum.

Akio straightened with a grin, pivoting to address his squad-mates lined up around the training square. "Oiy, who's next?"

"Hayato-san," Ukitake suggested in a tone that had the faintest ring of command in it. He turned his grin onto the named squad-mate, who managed to look both eager and reluctant. "You need work on your uppercut, and I know for a fact your zanpaktou is dying for a spar."

A shadow of surprise flashed across Hayato's face as he stood up and drew his sword from its sheath; his was a newly-named zanpaktou, its personality still emerging. To Jyuushirou, it practically hummed with untapped potential. "How did you know that?" Hyato muttered as he crossed the square, a wary look on his face.

Jyuushirou just shrugged, concentration settling on his own soul blade. "Sogyou no Kotowari told me," he explained carefully, shifting his weight and tightening his grip on his sword's pommel. He directed razor-sharp focus on his opponent/squad-mate/student. "They talk to you, if you listen." He lunged.

Hayato's blade met Sogyou no Kotowari with a ring and with considerably more power than Ukitake was expecting. Eyebrows springing upwards, Jyuushirou danced back and pivoted, regarding his opponent with a shrewd smile. "Ah, but you know that already, don't you?"

Alarm widened Hayato's eyes before they narrowed in determination. His grip firming on his pommel betrayed him a split-second before he leaped at Ukitake, blade swinging.

"Hold!"

The tone of command froze Ukitake and Hayato in their tracks; glancing over his shoulder, Ukitake was surprised to see a unfamiliar shinigami at the edge of the training ring. Though there was something familiar in the classic lines of his face and the thin moustache and curling hair, Ukitake was certain the man was not from First. Confused, he dropped his swords as the strange shinigami continued.

"Ukitake-san, you are summoned by the sutaicho. He requests that you report to him immediately."

"Uh, ok." An odd summons, from an unknown shinigami. A tendril of memory stirred in the back of his brain but, unable to grasp it, Ukitake instead spared a moment to offer a short bow to Hayato. "Until next time," he murmured, eyes gleaming as the sentiment was returned. He held Hyato's gaze a second longer. "Listen to your zanpaktou. Trust it. It's the best part of you."

Hayato-san's eyes again widened in surprise, but after a moment he nodded in understanding. Ukitake sheathed his sword, turning without another word and strode out of the training square.

The unfamiliar shinigami fell into step beside him.

Ukitake's eyebrows rose slightly. "I know the way to the sutaicho's offices, you do not need to escort me, -?"

"Sasakibe-san," the man replied, gray eyes forward. "Yamamoto-sutaicho is not in his offices. I was asked to show you to his personal quarters."

That made Jyuushirou's eyebrows crawl the rest of the way up. His personal quarters? No one had been to Yamamoto-sutaicho's personal quarters. But this shinigami knew the way...? Confusing collided with that tiny whisper in his head, and suddenly memory crashed back into him.

_First Year graduation. The sparring display, a last man standing. The whisper of wind that wended through the assembly._

_And then Yamamoto-dono spoke. "Well done, Student. What is your name?"_

_The young man who had defeated all of his classmates turned and dropped into a full military seiza, his dark hair matted with sweat. His voice was tired, but controlled. "Sasakibe Choujirou, Yamamoto-sutaicho!"_

_Another long silence in the blistering heat, before Yamamoto-dono grunted. "Well done, graduating class. You are dismissed, with honors."_

Sideways, he glanced critically at the tall, controlled figure striding along beside him. Surreptitiously letting a had drop to the pommel of his sword, he sent a silent inquiry to Sogyou no Kotowari.

The swords took several moments to reply; the sense of zanpaktous feeling in other out was very strong. Finally, in their sing-song way, his soul source replied. _He is very strong, friend. A mountain lake; cold, deep and contained. It would be fun to cross with him._

Ukitake let his hand drop, the eager giggling of his sword echoing in his brain.

Sasakibe-san turned and glanced at him, ice-grey eye piercing. "It is far. You can flash?"

"Of course," Ukitake replied, cheeks pinking. He was suddenly effused with the feeling of having been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Sasakibe-san simply nodded and leaped away.

Ukitake followed; the man was fast, but he kept pace easily. He decided to try to smooth things over with this terse shinigami. "Are you new to First?"

The man nodded in between flashes. "I just transferred today. The paperwork has not had time to come through yet."

Obviously, or Ukitake would have seen it. He nodded as well, thoughtfully. "Any idea as to your placement here?"

Several flashes later, Sasakibe finally replied. He sounded a tad reluctant. "Yamamoto-sutaicho wanted to see how I fit in before giving me a particular Seat."

Ukitake thought back to his sword's evaluation of this man. Surely he was a shoo-in for a high seat...but they were all filled. _What plans does Yamamoto have for this guy?_

He had no more time for idle speculation, as they dropped into a large glen on the outskirts of Sereitei. It was situated far enough from central First Squad to allow Yamamoto Genruusai the chance to relax without smothering nearby souls with his reiatsu. Sasakibe turned and gave Ukitake a single, low bow before flashing away without another word.

Thoughts still roiling, Ukitake stepped up onto the threshold and waited.

"Enter."

The gravelly voice spoke presently; Ukitake drew back the door and, sliding gracefully out of his sandals, entered the private home of Yamamoto Genruusai.

The outside was deceptive. Inside, the front room sprawled out in a wide expanse of tatamis and shoji walls, stretching out to a completely open fourth wall which overlooked a private garden. The afternoon sun glinted off a small pool and bathed the front room in an amber glow and little else, as the room was almost completely bereft of art of furniture. Ukitake paused, letting his reiatsu fan out in as polite a manner as possible and then deliberately following his senses towards the power signature throbbing quietly deeper inside the building.

His journey took him down a long hallway decorated lavishly in mounted art frames, past rooms to each side whose closed screens withheld their secret interiors. Before long, he emerged into a tatami room that, like the front room, boasted an entire wall open to the garden and golden sunlight pouring in.

In the middle of the room, calmly sipping his tea, sat Yamamoto-sutaicho.

He made no indication of Ukitake's presence, so after a respectful pause, Jyuushirou let himself into the room and sank to his knees in a posture befitting a proper tea ceremony. Patiently, he waited.

Yamamoto finished his own tiny cup before setting out another, filling both at his leisure. At a faint gesture of permission, Ukitake nodded and took his cup, lifting it to lips. It was steeped at the absolutely perfect temperature.

They sipped in silence for a long while.

"The apple blossoms are not far from bloom," Yamamoto said finally.

Ukitake's eyebrows crawled upwards. "Hai, sutaicho," he answered in surprise.

"You have gardens at Ugendo?" Yamamoto sipped his tea.

Ukitake hoped his mouth wasn't gaping as widely as he felt it was. "Uhm, yes sutaicho. Although they're mostly my father's pride and joy. I prefer the lakes; they're full of carp," he added, fighting a blush.

Yamamoto grunted, as if such a banal statement held significance. "Your health has improved."

Now there was no holding back the color in his cheeks. Ukitake swallowed hard. "Yes, sutaicho."

It had actually been nagging at him; ever since achieving shikai, he'd hardly had a single fit of illness. Oh sure, that episode with the Hollowess, in the caves...but he'd been half dead the time. That was over a year ago, and he'd had no problems since recovering his zanpaktou. Ukitake took another sip and refused to look past the rim of his teacup.

"You've grown strong in other ways, as well." Yamamoto-sutaicho pressed on, letting a critical eye drift open.

Ukitake's discomfort sky-rocketed. Well aware that his face was aflame, he swallowed his unease and forced himself to make eye contact. _No, I don't know why. I'm stronger - healthier - than I've ever been. Was it because of his spirit power, of achieving shikai?_ Ukitake had no way of knowing, nor did he for a moment intend to relinquish his fear of falling ill again. He sipped placidly and tried to calm his racing pulse.

Yamamoto grunted and set down his cup, breaking the tension with a sigh. "I need captains, Ukitake-san."

Jyuushirou twitched in shock. He took a swig of tea to cover; it was starting to cool. "Sutaicho?" he murmured in deference, confused. There were four squads, and four captains. What more did the Gotei require?

"We are not strong enough," the captain-commander growled hoarsely, his reitasu flaring just slightly, albeit still enough to seize Ukitake's breath in his chest. Yamamoto shook his head ponderously from side to side. "That...creature should not have been allowed to grow so strong, gather so many. Undetected."

Ukitake fought a wave of nausea, which surged whenever he thought of the twisted creature that had possessed Sogyou no Kotowari and the army it had harbored. The familiar ache of helplessness, of desperation, reverberated through him and before he could realize it, he was stroking the hilt of his sword. "You annihilated them, sutaicho," he croaked, trying for reason and reassurance. "They won't bother us again."

"How do we know?" Yamamoto grated, eyes opening the merest bit as the very air seemed to crisp. "I thought them gone before. Shall we wait until soldiers start vanishing - _dying_ - before we know once again that we are threatened?"

Ukitake's breath halted painfully in his chest.

Yamamoto spoke on, half to himself. "It's not enough to respond to threats. They must be uncovered before soldiers die. Before innocents," and here the man actually drew a breath that almost shuddered, "are made to suffer needlessly. In order to be effective, the Gotei must be proactive," he finished firmly, raising his gaze to pin Ukitake to the wall.

"We must become stronger. I need more captains."

Ukitake gulped and drew breath as if surfacing from some deep, submerged depth. His voice, when he found it, came out as a croak. "What is required?"

Yamamoto may have smiled ever so faintly, it was impossible to tell from beneath his beard. He replied with a single word.

"_Bankai_."

Ukitake reeled. He'd heard the word - hell, he'd all but studied such phenomenon in his readings of ancient scrolls - but it was a concept shrouded in mystery so intense it bordered on taboo. That such a thing existed was all that was certain; what it was, what it did, how to reach it...such things were not discussed even in the most ancient of tomes. As a result, its status was something akin to folklore, to myth. Had one suggested Ukitake fly off into the cosmos and harness a nebula, it would have seemed a less ridiculous suggestion.

He shook his head once, staring down into his cooling tea with eyes that felt ready to fall out of his head. For a long time, Jyuushirou wrestled the concept around his numb brain. When he finally raised his head, he could barely whisper.

"How?"

Yamamoto shifted; something in the tension of his shoulders seemed to ease. He spoke matter-of-factly. "It is different for everyone. Each journey is unique, and none can guide you. Some have died in the attempt."

Hardly reassuring. Ukitake swallowed past an enormous lump in his throat. A million questions hovered on his tongue, but for some reason he found himself delving inward, downward. Reaching for his soul.

_Can we?_ he asked Sogyou no Kotowari.

The swords did not answer, but they did not deny him either. A shiver of something akin to excitement ran through them, though they said not a word. Hazel-green eyes flew up to meet his captain-commander's in shock.

Yamamoto-sutaicho simply nodded and squared his shoulders anew. "You will have all the time and resources you need. I will know whether you succeed."

_Or whether you fail,_ hovered in the air unspoken. Ukitake's throat burned with unnamed emotions.

"Where is your compatriot?"

The harsh question pulled Ukitake out of his mental free-fall. He faltered. "Uh...I do not know, sutaicho."

"You were both summoned," Yamomoto growled, for all the world sounding disgruntled. "Find him and send him to me."

It was a dismissal. Ukitake found his way shakily to his feet and, bowing as deeply as he could manage, made his way out of the building.

From there, he walked in a daze. Ukitake could hardly put a coherent thought together, so when he found himself wandering in the direction of the squad's _onsen_, he turned his feet gratefully in the direction of the hot spas and the relief they offered. Hoping for some peace and quiet to piece back together his shattered psyche, Jyuushirou slipped through the doors into the pleasant, steamy interior.

"Oiy."

As soon as Ukitake slid the door shut he was greeted by a familiar voice. For a second he stiffened, as he watched his hoped-for solitude fly out the window...but then his shoulders dropped and all things aside, he felt a lopsided grin take over his face. "There you are. The sutaicho's looking for you."

"I heard. Which is precisely why I'm here." Kyouraku Shunsui lounged in all his muscular glory along one side of the hot springs, hair curling tighter than usual in the steam. His one open brown eye slid shut as he lowered himself further into the bubbling water. "Where the fuck have you been? The water's perfect."

Ukitake grunted, shucking off his robes and folding them neatly before sliding gratefully into the scalding water. "So this is where you've been hiding," he murmured, letting the natural springs leech tension and aches from the morning's sparring out of his muscles.

"Killing two birds with one stone, my dear Jyuu," Shunsui barked in reply, dipping a cloth in the waters and wringing it out, only to drape it over his forehead and across his eyes. Settling back with a sigh, he continued. "Shinigami rarely seek to deliver messages to naked men. And aside from a woman, this is the best hangover cure in existence."

"You would know," Ukitake rolled his eyes and fought down a chuckle. "You really should go see Yama-jii," he said after a long moment of listening to the natural springs gurgle and steam around them.

"I'll get to it when I get to it," Shunsui replied from under his face mask.

Ukitake stayed quiet; a bit too quiet. Something in that must have betrayed his roiling thoughts.

With a splash, Kyouraku dragged the cloth from his temples and turned sharp brown eyes on him. "You were summoned as well? And you've been to see the Old Man already. What do you know?"

Ukitake sank into the water up to his jawline as if trying to disappear. "You'll find out," he muttered moodily, focusing his gaze on the lazy trails of steam as the danced across the water's roiling surface.

"Well, just inspire me with confidence, why don'cha?" Shunsui returned dryly. "You make me want to stay here all day." With that, he took a deep breath and sank beneath the surface.

Several moments later he emerged, sputtering and shaking his head, throwing scalding droplets around like a wet dog. "Come with me, I need moral support," he whined.

"I've already been," Jyuushirou replied tightly. "Besides, I'm heading home tonight."

"To Ugendo?" Kyouraku replied stupidly, eyes wide with surprise and feigned hurt. "Come on, you can visit your family any time. You can't abandon a brother in arms at his time of need," he wheedled.

Once again, Jyuushirou's hazel eyes pivoted to the heavens. "You'll be fine. And I don't have a choice; there's a family function that I cannot miss."

Kyouraku pursed his lips and regarded him for a long moment from behind dripping, curly bangs. "I could come with you. To Ugendo."

"Not by all the gods in heaven," Ukitake replied easily. He returned Shunsui's shocked look with one of stern derision. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I am never ridiculous," Kyouraku lied with fervor. "Why can't I come?"

"Because tonight means a lot to my family, and I still have nightmares about the last time you spent in my mother's presence." Ukitake suppressed a delicate and heartfelt shudder.

"Oh come on, I was at my most charming," Shunsui protested.

"_Exactly_." Ukitake's glare heated. "You can't come. I mean it, Shun."

Kyouraku was just raising his hands in a defensive motion when the doors slid open and several other squad-mates entered the _onsen_. The two boys fell silent, Kyouraku diving back under his face towel while Ukitake respectfully acknowledged the nods of his juniors with answering nods.

Here, in the steam, formality slid to the back burner. "I hear you gave Akio-san a run for his money this morning," good-natured, unseated Souta joked as he slid into the water.

Ukitake nodded, smiling weakly. "He's talented. With a named zanpaktou, he'll be formidable."

Stocky Tarou snorted a laugh, his own submersion creating a small tidal wave across the sauna. "You speak as if shikai were so easy," he grumbled, an unlikely grin splitting his dauntingly solid features.

"Shikai, sure," added Hirakou, another unnamed seat with a reputation for being free-spirited and easy going. "Just about anyone with reiatsu has the potential for it."

Ukitake nodded in agreement; that much jived with most historical recordings of spirit-power research. He was about to say as much when the next interjection stuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

"And bankai?" The florid, socially awkward behemoth named Daisuke growled casually. "It's so legendary most people consider it myth."

"It's _not_ myth. All four captains have it, so it must be what makes them captains," snapped Tarou, beady eyes shifting uncomfortably even as he rushed to defend his statement. "The word is, the Old Man is collecting every soul he can find that have the potential for it."

Jyuushirou very nearly stopped breathing. Sasakibe's words thundered in his brain: _"I just transferred today. The paperwork has not had time to come through yet..."_

"_Oushikuso_," snarled Souta, his pleasant face twisting into a scowl. "You shouldn't talk about such things." His face flushed crimson, either from the topic or the steam, it was hard to tell.

Tarou shrugged. "That's what I heard."

Hirakou's face twisted up into a mangled, uncertain grin. "Well, there's only four captains. Who knows what it really takes? They could be colluding to set the bar as unattainable, so as to keep power to themselves."

_I need captains._ Ukitake actually squirmed as the recalled words thundered though his head. His cheeks flushed crimson; in the steam, he prayed no one would notice. Inexorably, he felt his eyes drawn to his robes, where Sogyou no Kotowari rested atop. They seemed to be vibrating with some barely contained eagerness.

When he managed to tear his eyes away, the conversation had lapsed into more relaxed and safe topics, bubbling on around him like the overheated water. But Kyouraku was silent and was giving him a look that he could cut himself to ribbons on.

"Gods, I could use a drink." Hiraku raised a hopeful eyebrow at Shunsui.

It was enough to distract Shunsui, and he mercifully broke the intense glance with his dearest friend. "Sorry, I'm hard up at the moment."

Ukitake felt his eyebrows spring upwards. "You came to the _onsen_ without a bottle of sake?"

"I'm experimenting with sobriety."

"Really?" Ukitake replied in surprise.

"No." Shunsui adopted the patented Kyouraku Incorrigible Grin. "In my robes, help yourself."

With a whoop, Souta slid out of the pools and set to patting his way through the ungainly pile of cloth behind Shunsui. A moment later, he emerged triumphantly with a heavy bottle.

Ukitake sighed and eased himself out of the water. "Enjoy yourselves," he muttered by way of dismissing himself.

He was halfway dressed when a dripping-wet and mostly naked Kyouraku appeared at his side. "What's eating you?" When Ukitake refused to answer with more than a delicate snort, Shunsui crossed his arms. "Fine. I'll come by your place later and you can tell me all about it."

"NO." Ukitake's reply could not have been more heated. "Just go see Yamamoto," he hissed, tugging his obi firmly into place and putting as much vehemence as he could into his tone. "I'll be back in a day and we can talk everything out then." Shunsui replied with an inglamorous scratch. Ukitake promptly jabbed him in the kidney. "Promise me," he hissed.

"Well, if you're gonna be an asshole about it," Kyouraku muttered, rubbing his side dramatically. "Then fine. I got better things to do anyway." Ambling back towards the spa - with a quick detour to unearth a second jug of sake from his clothing - he slid back into the water, took a deep drag of drink and proceeded to start up a conversation about Souta's sex life.

* * *

With utmost care, Shunsui eased himself over the wall surrounding Ugendo, tamping his reiatsu down as hard as he could manage. He'd even left Katen Koyetsu at home in hopes of being as untraceable as possible. Hovering for a moment, he reached out with every non-spirit-power sense available to him and, deeming the coast clear, dropped silently to the soft grass below.

_Really. If the Ukitake's didn't want unwelcome guests, they should up their security._ Confident in that his course of action was really only to be expected by a best friend who should know better than to deny him access to a party, Shunsui grinned in the dark, remembering Jyuushriou's half-hearted attempt to distract him by sending him to Yama-jii's.

As if he'd needed to go. Shunsui made a point of never answering official summons, as they generally involved matters of responsibility and accountability, two things he avoided at all costs. Besides, he hadn't needed to see the Old Man; Ukitake's face during the _onsen_ banter told Kyouraku everything he needed to know.

_So, the old Battle Axe wants more captains. What for? More divisions?_ As if Sereitei needed more. The High Clans barely tolerated things as they were, forcing them to relinquish more power could only bode ill. More soldiers, more fighting, more insanely powerful shinigami kowtowing to the sutaicho's every beck and call? Shunsui could hardly imagine a worse fate, unless it was marriage to a woman with a hump back and halitosis. Mentally weighing the comparisons, Shunsui utilized his extensive personal and military combat experience to creep stealthily across the grounds.

It took a while; lax security or no, he had still opted to infiltrate Ugendo from the farthest and most ubiquitous location possible, just in case. Hours seemed to pass while he drifted around the vast lake, brown eyes always focused on the sukiya-zukuri ahead of him, blazing with a thousand lanterns as the sun set and darkness settled in.

He timed it perfectly. Full darkness had just draped itself like a velvet blanket across the landscape as he reached the edge of the building, modest by noble standards, the walls thin enough to make clear the sounds of revelry within. The cacophony gave Shunsui pause. It was hard to believe such a minor house could command such a turnout. That made Kyouraku grin; a party of this magnitude meant no expense spared. There were oceans of sake to be discovered, and no more time to waste.

He worked his way around until he finally reached a section of the manse that was quieter, the sounds of revelry muted to a dull, distant throb. Deftly and from long practice, Shunsui worked a small pocket knife into the slats of the nearest darkened window and teased the latch open. Cautiously, he eased the window open, listening for any sign of discovery.

Nothing. Grasping the sill, he dead-lifted himself up and over, officially breaking in. A single candle flickered in a corner, leaving most of the room and the window through which he'd just slipped in shadow. Shunsui held rock-still, long enough to be certain of his safe entrance, before he finally stood up and, straightening his robes, strode for the nearest door.

"I assume you're on the guest list?"

Shunsui very nearly parted with his own skin. Restraining a decidedly un-masculine shriek, he spun about and did his best not to trip over his own feet.

The dark room betrayed nothing. Kyouraku clasped his hands behind his back and attempted to cloak himself in innocence. "I was just...uh, looking for the outhouse."

"It would be outside, I would imagine." That voice came again from the dark, smooth as silk and sweet as honey. Kyouraku got the distinct impression it was amused by him.

He did what he did best and adopted a self-effacing grin. "You caught me, my dear. I'm am merely a humble servant, looking for more sake. For the revelers."

"A servant," The voice mused, curling through the shadows like smoke. A faint sound, like a finger tapping lips thoughtfully. "House Ukitake is such a lowly house, so poor. And yet it can afford to hire a shinigami as party servant?"

Shunsui's chin dropped open. In the dark, how could this creature tell what robes he wore? He was black on black. Instantly beguiled by whatever mind could be behind so sharp an eye, Shunsui switched from lop-sided grin to his best lady-killer smolder. "I _was_ looking for the sake," he said, the honeyed tone mixing with disarming truth.

"Now, that I'd believe," said the darkness with a giggle that resonated all the way down to Shunsui's toes. "You're in quite the wrong place, 'servant'," it purred before turning shrewd once again. "What are you doing here, really." It was more command than question.

Shunsui's eyebrow quirked. "Talking to shadows. You?"

A chuckle; it sounded like a brook over smooth stones. "Trying to decide whether or not to inform the lord of the house of an intruder."

"Don't do that," Shunsui blurted, hands coming up in front of him in a placating gesture as a nervous laugh slipped out of him. "Look, I'm a family friend, really. Jyuushirou and I are like that." He held up two fingers, twined together.

The darkness seemed to consider that. "Well...they do say that the First Son chose a military education. And that he associates with the notorious Second Son of a particular House."

"Ah, eheheh," Kyouraku chortled, fighting something appallingly close to a blush. "That would be me." Chagrin melted instantly into affront. "And what do you mean 'notorious'?" he spluttered. That word sounded unusually biting coming from this hidden goddess.

"Rumor has it, this Second Son is a lothario," Shunsui's chest puffed out. "A drunkard, a scoundrel and an all around miscreant."

Kyouraku wilted slightly, but parried with a grin. "You say that like that's a bad thing," Shunsui went on the offensive. "Do you always believe things 'they' say, or do you have a mind of your own?

This time the shadows exuded a palpable pique, which dipped suddenly into something sort of sad. "A sharp mind in a man is something valuable. Us lowly women are merely required to look beautiful and serve the tea."

"Not where I come from," Shunsui fired back. "Why just last week, a lovely Third seat tried to hamstring me. I found it quite thrilling."

Another giggle; it made Kyouraku insanely light-hearted to have cheered up this invisible paragon. He peered intently at the shadow he was certain was cloaking her. "Who are you?" It came out as a croak.

"I am no one of consequence."

"Your name," Shunsui insisted, preparing a kido chant. This darkness was maddening. "I must know."

"Get used to disappointment."

"Never," Shunsui returned with heat. He found his fists clenched and forced them open. "The truth now, sweetling: what are you doing, lurking in the shadows?"

A sigh, soft as butterfly's wings. "Parties can be tiresome. I prefer to be alone."

"Oh yes, dreadful things, parties. Can't stomach them myself." Kyouraku couldn't believe he actually managed to say that with a straight face.

A full laugh; it tinkled through the room like bells on a summer breeze. "You, sir, are a terrible liar." With a quiet snick, tinder struck and candle caught flame, bathing the room in light.

And Shunsui found himself staring at the single most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

Hair black as a raven's wing tucked delicately behind perfect earlobes, twining up elaborately around an intricate tsumami kanzashi arrangement. The slender figure was robed in a gleaming silken kimono, all blues and greens and edged in silver, but what really knocked Shunsui over was her eyes. Settling the lantern carefully around the bright candle, the creature turned gracefully and eyes the color of perfect emeralds regarded him through thick lashes.

"Well, if you're really here for sake, you're in the wrong place for a drink," she said gently.

Kyouraku felt each word brush against his skin from head to toe. A distant part of his mind realized he was gaping like an idiot, but he couldn't seem to move. "I think I'm drunk enough already," he finally managed.

"But you've only just arrived." The creature glided towards him in a way that stole all the moisture from Shunsui's mouth. Her impossibly large eyes flickered towards the window and their color deepened in what could only be amusement. She regarded him for a long moment, her gaze sending a frisson of electricity along every single one of Shunsui's nerve endings. Abruptly, the luminous creature frowned. "I really should call security. Your presence in my private rooms is scandalous."

"Oh, you haven't seen 'scandalous' yet, my lady," Shunsui growled. In one swift movement, he drew near to the girl and snaked an arm around her impossibly tiny waist. More gently then he wished, he drew her body close to his.

She gazed upwards at him, ruby lips parted and her enormous emerald eyes widened behind their thick, black lashes. "I should call security," she whispered.

"You already said that," Shunsui susserated back. "Tell me your name."

He could swear a tremor ran through her delicate frame, but her gaze never wavered. "Why?"

Shunsui smiled, something warm and indefinable spreading through his broad chest. "So I know the name of the goddess who has stolen my heart."

At that, her eyes fluttered but any answer was forestalled by the nearest door sliding open with a snap.

"There you are, everyone's asking about you." Jyuushirou appeared like an apparition out of nowhere; he was wearing robes similar in color - a dozen shades of blue laced with green and silver threading - and his white hair was carefully tied back. "What on earth are you doing back here by yourself?"

The faintest hint of color hit the girl's cheeks, and she pulled away swiftly. Kyouraku felt rooted to the spot.

"Oh, fuck the seven hells." Hazel eyes clouded instantly.

The girl actually swatted at him. "Jyuushirou!" she protested in mild shock.

Ukitake ignored her, stalking towards Kyouraku with a face like thunderclouds. "I ask ONE thing of you-!"

"I haven't done anything!" Shunsui shouted in protest. "I'm just, I thought.." He trailed off, flummoxed. Abruptly he became annoyed. "I was just looking for the fucking sake."

"Are you drunk already?" Jyuushirou snarled, uncharacteristically furious. "GODS, Shun-!"

"I am not!" Shunsui hollered.

A hand on his arm stilled Ukitake; without a word, he fell silent, fuming, glaring daggers at Shunsui. The girl regarded him with an eerily familiar stance, expression quietly evaluating.

"He hasn't done any damage," she muttered, conciliatory, eyes still on Shunsui even as she spoke to pale-haired noble beside her. "And you're being rude."

Ukitake's shoulders dropped in defeat, although the flames in his eyes roared unabated. Recalling himself, he took a step aside and adopted a formal tone of voice.

A tone of introduction. "Shironen, this is Kyouraku Shunsui, my friend." He bit off the last word like an epithet. Still glaring, he continued.

"Shunsui, this is Ukitake Shironen. My sister."


	22. The Light of Midnight

A stiff breeze could have felled Kyouraku Shunsui on the spot. Sereitei's greatest flirt found himself incapable of doing anything more impressive than standing with his mouth open, hands limp at his sides. He tried to grin and managed to look sickly.

Shironen's lips curled up effortlessly, and there was a glint in her eye as she bowed gracefully. "A pleasure to meet you, Kyouraku-san." Laughter bubbled just beneath the surface of her formal tone.

The only reply Shunsui could muster was to blink owlishly at the pair in front of him.

"You picked a fine time to lose your tongue," Ukitake noted acidly. "Are you accidentally sober or something?"

"He did say he was looking for the sake," Shironen offered helpfully.

"Of that I have no doubt." With a sharp exhalation of breath, Jyuushirou turned to his sister and he demeanor changed again into something stunningly affectionate. "You really must stop hiding back here. Your absence is being noticed."

"By the guests, or by mother?" Shironen purred with a faint roll of her eyes. "Never mind, I know the answer to that. I suppose father could use some rescuing as well?"

"Actually, he's conversing with a ficus at the moment. The guests are steering well clear of him." Jyuushirou and his sister shared knowing grins that were eerily identical.

"I prefer angiosperms myself, they're so much wittier," Shunsui contributed, and instantly wished he hadn't. Both Ukitakes turned large eyes on him in unison, although the similarities halted there as Shironen's were decidedly amused and Jyuushirou's were beyond withering.

Shunsui cleared his throat. "I'll, ah, just let myself out." He began sidling towards the open window.

"Oh no you don't." Ukitake snapped in a way that rooted Shunsui to his spot. "You and I are going to have words first." He turned back to his sister. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all." She smiled benignly at her sibling and didn't budge an inch.

Jyuushirou's cheeks pinked. "You really should get back in there. Mother will-"

"Mother wants me to make a splash. What better, then, to be mysterious and have everyone talking about me?" Shironen batted her eyelashes and then turned eyes full of mischief on Shunsui.

He just about melted on the spot. "In my experience, a lady should always get her way." Kyouraku tucked his hands behind his back and adopted an expression of absolute innocence.

His left eye flickered in the merest hint of a wink. Shironen's cheeks slowly began to glow.

Aware that he was amusing both people present, Ukitake sighed, crossed his arms and turned the full wattage of his glare on Kyouraku. "You promised you'd stay away."

"I did no such thing," Shunsui lied effortlessly. "And why would you deny your best friend the pleasure of your company?" His eyes never once left Shironen's.

Jyuushirou slid gracefully in the way and commanded Shunsui's attention. "I told you tonight was important to my family," he said quietly.

"All the more reason to be here and lend the value of my name to your eminent gathering," Shunsui parried easily, grinning like a wolf.

Abruptly, Jyuushirou lost patience and turned towards his sister. "Would you excuse us, please?" His tone brooked no argument.

"If you insist," Shironen replied with a wicked curve of her lips before bowing to Kyouraku and turning those hypnotizing eyes on him again. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Kyouraku-san. I must spend more time with someone who so easily unsettles my beloved Brother."

"_Anytime_." The word sizzled as it left Kyouraku's tongue. He could swear the electricity in the room jumped, and that Shironen's lips parted slightly in response.

"I'll join you in a moment." Ukitake broke the moment by firmly stepping in again and guiding his sister to the door.

One more smile and Shironen was gone in a rustle of silk and the faint waft of jasmine perfume.

Shunsui watched the space where she had been with a stupid, lopsided grin on his face.

And then Ukitake was man-handling Shunsui right back towards the open window. With a face like thunderclouds, he pointed towards the night. "You. Out. _Now_."

"I thought you wanted to 'have words'!" Shunsui wailed, trying to squirm out of Jyuushriou's grip.

"We just did," Ukitake snapped. "I'm so mad at you I can't see straight. You _promised_, Shunsui!"

"You should know me better by now!" was Kyouraku's honest but ineffectual counter-argument.

A brief tussle ensued, during which Ukitake tried to bodily shove him out the window while Kyouraku dug in his fingernails into the frame and held on for dear life. Managing to land a heavy foot on Ukitake's instep, Shunsui slipped free long enough to dart halfway across the room before Ukitake could slap a binding kidou around him and freeze him to the spot.

Nonplussed, Kyouraku managed a grin. "It'll be easier to just let me stay, you know," he panted.

"Out of the question," Ukitake snorted, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. "You can't break that spell."

"Are you sure?" Kyouraku's grin took on an evil twist.

Ukitake threw his hands up. "Why would even want to stay?" he howled in exasperation.

Shunsui settled back thoughtfully against the kidou binding him as if he wanted to be there, and the rods had just happened to settle around him while he lounged. "Gee, let's see: party, booze, at least one stunningly beautiful woman-"

"Careful." Ukitake glowered.

"-who you conveniently kept secret from me," Shunsui finished with a petulant glare.

Ukitake's own green eyes hardened. "I'm not required to divulge every single detail of my life to you."

"Oh, thanks a lot." Shunsui's own features settled mulishly.

The two regarded each other stonily for a long moment.

Finally, Ukitake sighed and dropped his head into his hands, long fingers caressing his temples. "Ok. What will it take for you to leave quietly?"

"I want answers. Tonight. At the Peony Pavillion."

Ukitake's expression turned apoplectic. "You want me to leave a family function in order to go to a _brothel_?" he spluttered.

Kyouraku rolled his eyes. "You can come after your Very Important Party. But come tonight, and I get to grill you until I'm satisfied. And not just about family shit," he added, twitching his head in the general direction of the revelry that could be heard faintly through the rice screens. "You come out with whatever the Old Man's got up his sleeve. Because that's what friends do," he added ruthlessly. "They don't leave each other in the dark."

Ukitake paled further in barely-restrained fury, an accomplishment in its own right. "Fine," he seethed. "But only if you leave this instant, and without making a scene. No one is to know you were here."

"Your wish is my command," Shunsui replied acidly, dumping a fistful of kidou without incantation; the rods holding him in place guttered and vanished. "I don't like secrets," he growled at a very shocked Ukitake, and silently slipped away into the night.

* * *

It was long past midnight before Ukitake found his way clear to slip across the grounds and over the wall surrounding Ugendo. Though the wall had several gates that were never locked, they were so infrequently used that their rusty bolts tended to screech and might draw attention. It was far simpler to leap to the top of the stone wall with a nudge of shunpo and then drop silently onto the mossy forest ground below.

"Took you long enough."

Jyuushirou spun around, snapping his teeth shut around the defensive spell that formed automatically on tongue. Then he pressed a hand to his chest and sagged against the wall. "Gods, Shun, you scared a year out of me!" He glared at the figure lurking in the shadows. "What are you doing here, I thought you were waiting at the Peony, getting hammered or whatever."

Kyouraku shrugged and ambled closer. "Didn't feel like walking that far. Figured I'd just hang around, make sure you kept your promise."

Jyuushirou smothered a comment on how Shunsui had never before found getting to a brothel to be taxing - or that any distance at all was relatively moot given shunpo - by grimacing in annoyance. "Since when have I broken a promise?" he grumped.

"Well, let's start with a sister you never mentioned having." Kyouraku matched glares and folded arms across his chest.

"I did too mention her," Ukitake replied irritably. "And I never promised you a Ukitake roll call."

"Then how come I never met her before tonight?" Shunsui pouted, rolling his shoulders petulantly. "I looked like an idiot in there."

"I told you not to come!" Ukitake hissed. Suddenly, he sighed and glanced nervously back at the wall. "Walk with me." He stalked off and presently, Kyouraku fell into step with him.

The walked through the moonlit forest for a bit before Ukitake finally spoke. "The reason you haven't met Shironen before is because she's been living with distant relatives."

"Since when?"

"Not long after I got sick," Ukitake seemed reluctant to say more.

"So, tonight was her welcome-home party?"

"Something like that."

Kyouraku's eyebrow twitched up. "You don't sound happy to see her...?"

"On the contrary; I couldn't be more delighted." The corners of Ukitake's mouth curled up, his tone turning wistful. "We were very close, as children."

"Close in age? Wait," Shunsui interrupted himself with a terrible thought. "You're not twins, are you?"

Grey eyes rolled heavenward. "No, but everyone used to think so. We're barely a year apart in age, and we were inseparable when we were little." Unadulterated delight crept into his tone as Ukitake's memories drifted forward. "You can't imagine how much trouble we used to get into! We explored every inch of Ugendo together, much to my mother's chagrin as we here especially good at sneaking away from her. Sometimes for days at a time. Shironen has always had a knack for hiding."

"Yeah, I noticed." The words were out before Shunsui could think, and his accompanying sloppy grin made Ukitake glance at him in ill-masked concern. Shunsui kept talking, to distract him. "So, you two were thick as thieves."

"Were we ever. She was always adventurous, wanting to fish and hike and camp under the stars. Once she has an idea in her head, there's no talking her out of it." Ukitake shook his head faintly, wearing the same affectionate grin he'd had back at the house.

Shunsui embraced each tidbit of information about this paramour, rolling it around his thoughts like a fine wine on the palate. He practically held his breath, afraid to interrupt the reminiscing, but when Ukitake fell silent for a bit, Kyouraku nudged the conversation along. "And then you got sick?"

Ukitake's demeanor changed instantly. "Yes," he said softly.

Shunsui kept prompting. "And they sent her away so she wouldn't catch it?"

"It was more complicated than that, but that was part of it." They reached a small brook, an outlet from Lake Ugendo glimmering in the moonlight. With an agile leap, Jyuushirou cleared it before continuing. "My mother decided it was high time for her eldest daughter to learn how to be a lady; health concerns only strengthened her resolve, and weakened my father's objections. Eventually, of course, they figured out that whatever turned my hair white wasn't contagious, but by then things were settled and, well..." He made a generalized hand gesture.

"It just never occurred to your mother to bring her own daughter home?" Kyouraku's fists clenched in the darkness.

"It wasn't like that, Shun. She settled in very well with our relatives, it's not like she was banished or anything," Ukitake replied sternly. "She's been home to visit plenty of times, she just always went back. I mean, the first few years she hated it, but there were opportunities there for her that Ugendo couldn't offer. Eventually, it just suited her better to stay there."

"Better than running wild, huh?" Shunsui snorted. "Why have a beautiful daughter if she can't be tamed?"

Ukitake halted, his expression hardening. "Shunsui, that's just the way things are. Different things are expected of female heirs. Just because we're a minor clan doesn't mean we could ignore certain protocols."

"What protocols? You're the heir, not her." Shunsui picked up a stick and swished it at a fern, slicing off a few leaves.

Ukitake watched him, his face half-hidden in shadow. "I'm not the eldest. Shironen is."

For the second time that night, Kyouraku felt cold-cocked. "But..." he stammered. "I thought you were-"

"First Son," Ukitake emphasized. "Shironen is ten months older than I am."

With a thud, Shunsui plopped down on a nearby log. "Huh," he uttered dumbly, peering up at his friend with a shadowy expression. "You're full of surprises tonight."

Ukitake shrugged and joined him, kicking at a moss-covered rock. "The whole inheritance issue in my family is complicated," he shared, features getting long.

Shunsui said nothing, but he quirked an eyebrow.

Ukitake barked a sharp laugh, once. "The eldest is a girl. I'm half dead. It's..." he sighed and stood up, pacing restlessly. "Complicated. Like I said."

"You're not half dead," Kyouraku growled. "Not any more, anyway. You're stronger than ever now."

"Yeah." Ukitake's expression only darkened.

It took Shunsui all of a heartbeat to put the pieces together. "You think you're healthier because of your training."

"That would be the logical conclusion," Ukitake confirmed. "I haven't had a significant health issue since achieving shikai." It came out barely a whisper. His elliptical pacing did not slow.

"So, now that you're healthy enough to be a viable heir, you've got Old Man Yama clammoring for more captains."

Ukitake's step faltered. "How did you-?"

"Oh please, I could read you like a book back there in the _onsen_. If you're going to be a military leader, you're gonna need to work on your poker face." Kyourku snickered.

Ukitake grimaced. "A military leader; me. All I wanted to do was study!"

Shunsui leaned forward. "If that was true, then why'd you want to train on the side?" His curls shook in consternation. "That's a lie, and you know it."

Jyuushirou kicked at a mushroom, silent for quite a while. "I wanted to see if I could do it."

"Do what?"

"Be strong," he replied, wide eyes catching a beam of moonlight and glinting a deep, troubled green.

"You are, now. What's wrong with that?" Shunsui asked, growing exasperated.

"How can I leave it all behind?" Ukitake finally wailed. "If I retire my zanpaktou, will I get sick again? If so, then I'm right back where I started. If I keep going," he continued, his tone getting desperate, "I'll be choosing my soul-slayer, and the Gotei, over my family."

Shunsui leaned back and watched his friend with a keen eye. "No one's asking you to split your loyalties, you know."

"Oh, yes they are." Ukitake came to a halt at the farthest point of his walk, facing away. A long silence filled the glade. Just as the sky began to pearl, Jyuushirou broke the pre-dawn hush.

"What am I going to do?"

Kyouraku stretched out stiffened muscles and lumbered to his feet. "You could always slip off and become a monk. I hear they live very peaceful lives filled with books and crap."

Ukitake met his advance with a withering glare, and together they turned and watched the sky lighten. "I'm serious."

"You're always serious. That's your problem. You really need to lighten up."

"Says the sober-for-once Shunsui," Jyuushirou chortled, running a hand through his hair and exchanging rueful grins with his friend. "I guess we're both out of sorts tonight."

Then image of Shironen's stunning eyes floated before Kyouraku's minds' eye, effectively cutting off any snide rejoinder he otherwise might have made. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered, earning him another one of those considering, side-long glances from Ukitake. "Well, I can tell you one thing: you're going to go for bankai. And so am I."

Jyuushirou's eyes widened. "You mean-?"

"Sure," Kyouraku cut him off with more confidence than he felt. "Hell, you think I'd let you out pace me? You'd get all the girls. No way am I gonna let that happen."

Ukitake's mouth curled into a grin, but all he said was "Thank you."

Kyouraku smothered his own grin and shrugged nonchalantly. "Just get me a date with your sister and we're even."

"Don't even joke about that," Ukitake replied as the very first sliver of sunlight slide over the horizon. "My mother would kill you if she caught you even looking at Shironen."

"And you know how much I love a challenge," Shunsui replied with a grin.

Ukitake regarded him thoughtfully. The sun continued to rise to the sound of birdsong erupting all around them.

All that natural glory suddenly bored Shunsui. He scratched himself and got lazily to his feet. "Well, I'm off. It's a new day, and I'm out of sake." With a flip of his fingers off his forehead in mock salute, he readied shunpo. "See you back at First."

Ukitake watched him go, an odd sensation spreading through his chest as the dawn spread across the awakening countryside. And even though he was standing on a grassy knoll surrounded by a copse of young oak trees, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing on a precipice, staring into the endless unknown.

* * *

The sun was above the tree tops by the time Ukitake made his way back. Sunlight danced across the gentle waves of the lake as he circled around towards the house. Upon reaching the rushes, he slowed and watched the water intently, peering into the shadowy depths for his favorite fish.

"I never thought I'd see the day when you were able to stay up all night." Shironen's scent wafted ahead of her amused comment. Joining her brother at the edge of the lake, she pulled tight her morning robes again the faint chill of the morning and regarded Ukitake with a calculating look.

Jyuushirou just smiled. "Nor did I. It's amazing how much things can change."

Shironen threaded an arm into Jyuushirou's. "You haven't changed a bit. This is exactly how I always saw you."

Ukitake put a hand on hers, his throat tightening. This was one of the things he loved about her the most; of all his family, she was the only one who never lost sight of the rambunctious child he'd once been. He grined. "Slightly darker hair, though, ne?"

"I don't know, I think this color suits you." Sironen smiled back, tugging at an errant lock that reached almost to his shoulders. "It must go well with Gotei robes."

Jyuushirou stiffened, causing Shironen to erupt in a peal of laughter. "Gods, brother, you're as transparent as the lake. You really must work on that." She beamed at him to take the sting out. "Why should my comment upset you? I thought you enjoyed it there."

"I do!" Ukitake replied fervently, anguish ghosting across his face. "More than I ever thought I would."

"Then what's the problem?" Shironen asked gently, threading a hand through Jyuushirou's arm and ambling slowly along the edge of the lake.

Jyuushirou rubbed a hand across his scalp. "There's no problem," he insisted, forcing his mood aside and trying to refocus on the beautiful morning and the beloved company. "I just never thought of a life outside of these walls. Now that I have one..." he shrugged. "I'm not sure which path to take."

Shironen had a talent for insight could cut glass. "Are the two mutually exclusive?"

Angling towards the house, Ukitake shook his head slowly. "I don't know, actually. I handn't thought about it any other way." Any further conversation was interrupted by a huge yawn.

She smiled up at him. "Come on, you should get to bed. Health aside, everyone needs sleep."

Ukitake nodded blearily and let her guide him into the house. At the door to her room, Jyuushirou held her briefly. "How did everything go last night?"

"You were there," Shironen replied cheekily.

Jyuushirou tilted his head at her. "You know what I mean."

A sigh. "Quite well. Father should have an offer in a matter of days. Mother is thrilled."

Ukitake gave his sister a tight hug. "Hopefully not too thrilled; you've only just come home. It would be a shame to lose you again so quickly."

She returned the hug before slipping back and beaming at him. "These things never happen quickly, don't worry. We'll have plenty of time for each other."

With that, Ukitake left her to dress and start her day, while he trudged back to his rooms. Just a short nap, he thought to himself, trading his robes for a light yogi. Blinking back his fatigue, he still had one more thing to do before he could lay down to rest.

Crossing to his dressing trunk, he reached inside and underneath this Gotei robes for the zanpaktou that was carefully tucked away. Settling himself on the tatamis, ankles crossed, he lay Sogyou no Kotowari across his knees and, taking a deep breath, let his eyes drift shut.

_You're tired!_

_Do you want to play?_

Ukitake smiled at the dual personality of his zanpaktou, equal parts caring for his well-being and willingness to dive into any fray. _I am well. But I have a question for you._

The time, the voices came as one. _Ask!_

He didn't so much as form words, as replay the conversation in Yamamoto-sutaicho's tea room, adding tendrils of his conversations with both Shunsui and Shironen and weaving into them his own nebulous worries and concerns.

The swords grew silent for a long time. When they spoke, it was with a rare solemnity. _Your heart is divided on this._

_Yes,_ Ukitake admitted. _But that is for me to sort out. What I want to know is...is this possible? You have given me so much strength already. Is it selfish to ask for more?_

More silence, this time giving the impression that the twin voices were consulting with each other before replying. _You can ask anything of us, brother, and we will come through for you. This thing you ask...it is possible._

_It will be fun!_

_It will come at great personal cost to you._

The voices split again, back into their separate and co-equal parts. The dissonance between the eagerness and ambition of the one and the concern and warning of the other made Ukitake shiver.

_What do you mean?_ he asked, a frisson of excitement mingled with a lurch of fear running through him.

His soul-slayer, by way of reply, drew back into its quiet state of eager readiness, and said no more.

Ukitake's eyes popped open, and he stared down at his sword in surprise. That was new, he thought, oddly exhilarated and unsettled by his conversation. Sogyou no Kotowari was many things, but enigmatic was not one of them. Not in his experience so far, anyway.

Well, I'd better get used to surprises if I'm thinking of seeking bankai, he said to himself, getting up to replace his zanpaktou back in its chest. As he did so, he got the distinct impression it was giggling at him.

That sensation, as well as his own internal turmoil, chased him to bed and when he dreamed, it was full of dark things he couldn't chase down and the memories of them were gone when he awoke.


	23. An Unusal Malady

There was something seriously wrong with Shunsui.

He was sleeping badly, for one thing. Or rather, he was sleeping a little too well, his slumbers laced with lucid dreams that he would carry to his grave and which left him stiff and uncomfortable in the mornings. Normally, such a malady would be easily corrected with either a bottle, a woman or both.

And that's where things got weird. He was off sake. It certainly wasn't his palate, of that he was certain. It was just that every bottle he came across seemed _off_. He'd had a dozen different bottles from a dozen different vendors from districts all over Sereitei, and they simply weren't up to snuff. He was firmly convinced there was some kind of dimension-wide spoilage in the most recent vintage and his refusal to be dissuaded had left him banned from several offended traders.

At one point, desperate, he'd guzzled a double-size bottle of the swill just so he could get a buzz. All he'd gotten was a bar-room brawl that left him cold-cocked and unconscious in a back alley for hours before Ukitake found him and dragged him to Fourth. The resulting two-day hangover had prevented him from trying that again.

So, that had left him with his other option...but Kyouraku found himself for the first time in his life uninspired by the presence of mistresses. He'd tried. He'd really tried. The first time, at the Peony, he had spent half the night trying to settle on a companion-for-hire, taking so long to make his decision that the proprietess had visited his table in order to inquire if he was feeling well. Aware that his image was about to suffer, he'd chosen a girl at random and retired to a room, where he'd spent the entire night _chatting_ with her. Nothing more. By sunrise, unnerved by the proprietess' hovering outside his room - clearly alarmed by the silence coming from within - Shunsui had paid his girl double in exchange for a hasty retreat out a secret back door.

He'd gone to seedier places after that with even more disastrous results, so much so that within a few short weeks of a particular party at the Ukitake residence, Shunsui had given up roving all together and begun to hang around First Squad like a loser. There he was able to distract himself with vigorous training, curtailing any post-sparring drinking offers by putting his squad mates into Fourth in varying states of bodily damage.

Predictably, that option faded as shinigami willing to spar with him dwindled. So before long, Shunsui was hanging around Ukitake like a lost puppy, sparring when he could, and otherwise encouraging his pale friend to recite some research material or another so that he could listen to him ramble and hope something would let slip about a certain sister of his.

All Kyouraku had to do was close his eyes to see Shironen again. Her inky silken hair, blacker than a raven's wing, tucked behind shell-shaped ears...the way her jewelry caught the glint of candlelight, but even the most precious stones couldn't outshine the glimmer of those eyes...

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying." Ukitake, miffed.

Shunsui's eyes popped open. "I was listening with rapt attention."

Ukitake eyebrow twisted upwards. "I actually hope that's not true."

"Hrm?"

"You were licking your lips."

"Ah," was Kyouraku's witty reply. His besotted brain floundered. "Perhaps I'm just hungry?"

Jyuushirou's expression faded to putrid. "I can't tell if you just made it better or worse."

"Worse, probably," Shunsui conceded, straightening from his slouch and stretching with a wide yawn. "Gods, I'm bored."

"Me too," Ukitake agreed, rolling up his scroll with care. "Care to go for a drink?"

"Nah," Shunsui replied before he could catch himself.

It was hazel eyes' turn to pop open, wide with shock. "Good gods, you're not bored, you're ill." Jyuushirou placed a hand on Kyouraku's forehead, an expression of excessive concern on his face. "How long have you been sober?"

Shunsui swatted with away with a growl. "I'm fine. I'm just so bored, that even _drinking_ bores me."

Ukitake didn't lose his expression of shock, although it mingled with amusement as he carefully folded his hands in front of him and spoke as if to a very small child. "Well, then. What would you like to do?"

Shunsui doodled on the desktop with a thick fingertip. "How's Ugendo this time of year?"

"You mean as opposed to when you were _just_ there?" Jyuushirou replied with a snort. His expression turned calculating. "Why do you want to go to my house, Kyouraku?"

Shunsui grimaced; last name. That was bad. He shrugged. "I hear the carp are lovely this year?"

Ukitake replied with a snicker, shaking his head. "You're pathetic. Whatever happened to all that famed Kyouraku charm and poise?"

_It went to the same place as my sake palate_, Shunsui replied inside his very grumpy head. "Look, I promise to behave!" he started out hopefully.

"Oh yes, I've seen how long your promises last," Ukitake replied dryly. He settled back and gave his best friend a long, hard look. "Ok. Fine."

Shunsui shot straight up to his feet. "Really?"

"Yes, but I will hold you to your promise this time, so help me gods," Ukitake replied firmly, rising slower and with much more grace.

Kyouraku was practically bouncing on his toes. "I can't believe you're not, like, punching me out or something," he added with a boyish grin.

"Me, neither," Ukitake replied, but he was smiling. "My parents are out of town; that's the only reason I'm allowing this. Also," this time he sighed. "She's been asking about you."

"Really?" Shunsui actually squeaked. Like a dog-chew toy. He cleared his throat, but couldn't stop his silly grin.

"Only in the most general terms," Jyuushriou clarified. Suddenly he turned, grabbing his friend by the shoulder in a strong grip. "Listen, Shunsui-" he started, looking as if he had something vile in his mouth and was trying to spit it out. "Do us all a favor, ok? Please, _please_ treat Shironen more as my sister than as one of your paramours." A cloud passed through his hazel eyes. "Believe me, it will go badly for everyone if you don't. Please?"

Shaken by his vehemence, Shunsui shook his shoulder free and took a shuffling step or two back. "Sure, fine. I'll be totally friendly," he muttered, rubbing his shoulder. "What makes you think I won't?"

"The way you were gaping at her last week," Ukitake replied pointedly. "She may be my sister, but I'm not blind to her beauty. Trust me when I say she has enough admirers. What she could really use is a friend."

Shunsui grasped this insight like a drowning man to a life raft. Slowly nodding, he fell into shunpo behind Ukitake as they took off in unison for Ugendo. "No problem, Jyuush," he shouted into the wind of their passing. "Friendship it is. My word on it."

It was best that, from his position in the lead, Ukitake couldn't see the small, secret smile that kept playing across Shunsui's face.

* * *

"And so then, Jyuushirou popped up from behind the leaves and shouted, '_fuiuchi_!' at the top of his lungs," Shironen said through a fit of giggles.

"And then I dove right into the lake!" Ukitake finished, spluttering with equal mirth.

"From the top of the oak tree?" Shunsui gasped, holding onto his side.

The two Ukitakes could only nod through shrieks of laughter.

"40 feet if it was an inch. Oh gods, you should have seen the expression on Mother's face," Jyuushriou finally said, wiping tears from his eyes. "She almost jumped in after me."

"She almost had to," Shironen chided. "You were down there so long, even _I_ was about to get worried."

"Yeah, but I caught him," Ukitake replied triumphantly, mimicking holding up a giant carp. "That old sucker was almost as big as I was!"

"And he tasted delicious," Shironen added, with a wink to Shunsui.

"You _ate_ the carp?" Kyouraku couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes. Mother insisted. To teach little Jyuushirou a lesson," Shironen said into her teacup, giggles rattling out of her.

"I was crushed. I cried through the whole meal, I think. Since then, I been _very_ protective of my carp," Jyuushirou finished primly, taking a sip of tea.

Shironen grinned affectionately at her brother across the tea table. "It's true. The lake is teeming and he won't hear of a single carp being touched. If he'd ever change his mind, we could fund a village on the fishing rights."

Ukitake snorted heavily. That only set his tea splashing all over the place, which set the three of them rolling in laughter again.

"Jyuushirou, I had no idea you were such a little monster," Kyouraku joked, when he could right himself and indulge in a sip of tea. It tasted better than any sake he'd ever had. He winked at Shironen. "Would you believe, when I met this guy he was the straightest arrow I'd ever met? Goody-two-shoes all around."

Shironen was already giggling as Ukitake straightened himself up in protest. "There is nothing wrong with being a model student-!"

Kyouraku and Shironen's laughter drowned him out, causing Jyuushirou to mope just long enough for their giggles to infect him as well and he finally chuckled ruefully, earlobes pinking.

"Yes, well, I imagine my brother did tame down there for a while." Shironen sipped her tea, albeit a bit ruefully. "At least it seems the Gotei has brought some of his fire back out." She beamed at her brother.

Shunsui couldn't take his eyes off her. "It does seem that way," he murmured.

The tone of his voice drew her eyes back around and for a second electricity seemed to arc from their depths.

Ukitake cleared his throat, loudly. "I'll just reheat the tea," he said with a poignant look at Shunsui. "You two behave yourselves," he said meaningfully, before adding, "No talking about me behind my back." With a wink to his sister, he gathered the tray and padded off.

Kyouraku, recalled to himself, drank his cup dry before looking up again. _Friends_, he reminded himself. _Be friends. Best way to set yourself apart from whatever assholes are fawning after her._ He reached for a benign expression and actually managed it quite well. "You two are close," he noted, gesturing in the direction Jyuushirou had vanished.

"So are you," was her astute reply, eyes sharp within her gentle expression. "I'm glad he's found a friend," Shironen confessed. "He was always too much into his books and studies, too confined at home. Not that he had much choice in the matter," she added ruefully.

Kyouraku shrugged. "Not many people get to choose their lot in life. Fate deals the cards; the job is to play hard," he finished with a twinkle in his eye.

"And what hand were you dealt, Kyouraku-san?" Shironen probed gently. She took another tiny sip of her tea.

Kyouraku firmly squashed the certainty that she was flirting with him. "Oh, you know. Charm, intelligence, rugged good looks." He was rewarded with a giggle, which inflated his ego just a bit. "And I've been known to wield a sword every now and then," he grinned crookedly at her.

Godsdammit all, those luscious eyes flared at his last words and there was a wicked glint in their depths. "Can I see it?" she purred.

It took every single ounce of his strength to crush his frustrated libido to the deepest pit of his stomach and lash it there. Outwardly, Kyouraku's expression betrayed nothing as he shifted his robes and, without a word - gods help him, if he spoke he'd say something lewd - he drew out the shorter of his two zanpaktou. He held it out to her, pommel first.

Her eyes widened. "I can hold it?"

"If it please you," Shunsui replied. He actually managed to sound cavalier about it.

Her face erupted into delight as she reached out a delicate hand; whether she grazed his hand or the watered silk of Katen Kyotetsu's hilt first hardly mattered. The touch shattered through him like a thunderclap, all the way down to his toes.

It felt eerily similar to the ecstasy of his _shikai_.

Shironen didn't seem to notice a thing; she took the sword from him with surprising strength in one so slenderly-wristed and held it aloft with a practiced arm. She gazed at it with unmasked awe. "It's so light," she breathed, taking a tentative swipe or two.

Each cut of air fanned along Shunsui's skin like fire. He watched, riveted, heart pounding. "It's the smaller of the two," he confessed.

Green eyes flickered to his. "You have more than one?" she asked, surprised.

Shunsui smiled, shifting again to draw the larger. He didn't offer it to her, instead angling it out in front of her where she could see it. Fascinated, she reached for the black-and-silver blade.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." It came out a thick rasp, startling both of them. Kyouraku couldn't say if he was more afraid for her safety or that of his own heart if she touched it.

Shironen blinked at him before wetting her lips and putting her hand back in her lap. She regarded the smaller blade in her other hand for a while as it distracted her from its owner. "Is this normal, for a zanpaktou to have two blades?"

Back on safer ground, Kyouraku pulled himself together, speaking as nonchalantly as he could muster. "I don't think so. Shinigami don't discuss their swords very often, it's sort of...well, we just don't." Not wanting to get on the topic of intimacy, Shunsui smiled blandly and sheathed his long sword. "You should ask Jyuushirou, he's always reading up on old texts, looking for clues. He knows a lot more about it than I do."

"He's studying double swords?" Shironen deftly shifted her grip, offering the pommel of the short sword back to its owner. "Is it because you have one?"

Shunsui managed to take it back without touching her porcelain skin. "No, cuz we both do. He's got a double blade as well."

She actually spit her tea, although she managed to do it rather delicately. Blushing, Shironen mopped up the mess with a silk table cloth. "Really?"

"Yeah, didn't you know?" Kyouraku said apologetically, wishing he could help her dab the moisture off her robes. Wisely, he kept his hands to himself, although he watched hers like a hawk.

"No, it looks like a single sword to me. Do you have to have reiatsu to see the second?" Confused emerald eyes glanced up at his, then away.

Shunsui burst out laughing, then held up a hand at her hurt expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I thought you had reiatsu?"

"No, none in my family have spirit power. Only Jyuushirou," Shironen replied, still exuding pique.

"It's my fault, then, I misspoke," Shunsui apologized earnestly. "Sogyou no Kotowari _is_ one sword. In _shikai_, it splits up into separate blades."

Shironen's eyebrows twitched, curiosity coming back into her eyes. "_Shikai_?"

"Ah, eh...yeah. It's part of owning a zanpaktou." Kyouraku peered into his empty cup, wondering what the hell was taking Jyuushirou so long. He was damn near parched.

"I thought you shinigami don't like to talk about your swords?" Shironen said in a tone like pure silk.

Kyouraku raised his eyes to hers, and locked on. "We don't."

That moment hung in the air like honeysuckle for a small eternity before a sound from beyond the screens broke their gaze.

"Well, it's about damn time," Shunsui started, turning around to glare at Jyuushirou.

He found himself staring, instead, into the faces of Master and Madam Ukitake.

Everything froze into a horrible tableau.

"Ehh...hahah, welcome home?" Kyouraku croaked. He was inordinately grateful that Shironen had confessed that no one else in her family had spirit power and he didn't have to worry about getting incinerated on the spot. He prepared a defensive spell anyway, just in case; if anything were to spark spontaneous demon magic in Madam Ukitake, it would be finding Kyouraku Shunsui taking tea alone with her daughter.

"Mother, Father. You're home early." Shironen rose to her feet gracefully but with just enough speed to betray her own nerves. A tiny spot of color appeared on her cheeks. "Are you well?"

"Everything is perfectly well, my little orchid," Ukitake Kimi replied, with a warm smile. Her gaze might have lingered a hair too long on her daughter's paling face, but then she did the very last thing anyone expected.

Crossing the room, the sank to her knees in front of Shunsui, took both of his hands in hers, and bowed over them. "It is so good to entertain the honored Kyouraku house beneath our humble roof."

Into this tableau - arguably worse than the one before - walked Jyuushirou. He took exactly three seconds to take in the room and its occupants before dropping the tea tray.

A knee-jerk incantation caught the tray barely an inch or two from his hands; the tea accoutrements rattled, but did not spill. In slow-motion, Jyuushirou reached down to took hold of it again. By the looks warring for dominance on his face, he couldn't decide if he should laugh or run.

Kyouraku knew exactly how he felt.

"Son, are you alright?" Ukitake Hiroshi asked, looking dazed and confused.

Kimi scolded. "Son, you're dishonoring your sister and your guest."

Ukitake jutted ear in his mother's direction as if unable to believe his own ears. She batted her eyes at him primly.

"Uh, yes. I should serve the tea." Each word was pronounced with the precision of one who was trying to decide if he was losing his mind.

"We'll leave you to it, then," Kimi replied, rising to her feet and bowing again at Shunsui. "Daughter, if you'll join us presently? We have matters to discuss." With a final, regal smile the Madam of the house left them alone, her dotty husband following behind with a vaguely distracted expression on his face.

The three of them stared at each other.

"Did that just happen?" Shunsui asked, the first to break silence.

"I daresay it did," murmured Shironen, a lovely crease between her eyebrows. She glanced at Jyuushirou. "Brother, the tea."

Ukitake jerked, and realizing the tray was tipping again from his numb fingers, swiftly put it on the table and sank to the ground. He eyeballed his friend askance. "Shun, what did you do to my mother?"

"I didn't do anything," he protested vehemently. "I welcomed her home, that's all!"

Jyuushirou's eyes narrowed, but before he could say more Shironen swept towards the door.

"I'll find out what's going on. If you'll excuse me," she added, dropping into a bow. She seemed at least halfway amused if as stunned as her brother.

Shunsui managed a half-bow from where he sat before Shironen disappeared, drawing the screens closed behind her. He turned to find Jyuushirou squinting at him in suspicion.

"Oh, for crying out loud, I did not ensorcel your mother," Kyouraku grumbled. "You'd have felt me casting."

"True," Jyuushirou replied and relaxed minutely. "I just about died when I saw they'd returned. They were supposed to be gone all week."

Shunsui shrugged, his thirst for tea utterly evaporated. "Come on," he said, standing abruptly. "Let's go get a drink or something. A real one," he added when Ukitake frowned at the tea table.

Jyuushirou's eyebrows furled. "_Now_ you want to go drinking?"

"Don't you?" Shunsui cocked his head.

"Good point," Ukitake answered with a sigh. "Go on ahead, I'll find you after I've talked to my parents. I just want to be sure everything's alright."

"Suit yourself." Kyouraku slipped out the nearest door and readied shunpo. "I'll be sure to get tanked enough for you to find me easily." A toothy grin and he was gone.

_Great_. That didn't bode well. Still, Ukitake took his time cleaning up the tea room and taking the carefully-balanced tray to the kitchen. There he dismissed the kitchen assistant with a kind word and set about cleaning everything himself. Wiping each cup and plate with care, he put everything in its place and set out to find his parents.

They had retired for the night, it seemed; the engraved door, simply done by noble standards, was closed tight and no light escaped from the chambers behind them. Stymied, Jyuushirou drifted through the house as evening darkened its hallways. Finding Shironen had never been easy; despite her looks, she had a way of disappearing utterly when she so wished. Not for the first time, Ukitake wished she had even a shred of reiatsu so that she would be easier to locate.

He finally stumbled across her in the library, sitting in the deepest shadow of the room in an worn reading chair. Curious, he took a step into the room until he was bathed in the moonlight from the window.

"Shironen? Is everything alright?"

"Yes. Everything is perfect," came the reply, soft enough to be nearly lost to the cicada song that drifted in on the night breeze.

Amidst dawning realization, he took another step closer. "So, I take it arrangements have been made?" Silence. "May I ask-?"

"Would you do me a kindness, dear Brother?" Shironen interrupted, turning to him so that the moonlight caught the thin trails of tear streak down her cheeks. She smiled beatifically at him. "Would you ask me in the morning?"

* * *

_fuiuchi_ - sneak attack


	24. Dreams and Nightmares

Ukitake did not sleep well.

He tossed and turned like a ship at sea, waking at odd intervals. It wasn't until near dawn that he finally fell into a deep sleep and didn't wake for hours.

When at last he opened his eyes, he was in a forest, surrounded by trees so tall they seemed to touch the very heavens. Although he could not see the sun, a low-lying mist seemed to capture light from somewhere and reflect it in a hazy glow all around him. No birds sang; indeed not a single creature or insect seemed to be about its business, and Jyuushirou was quite alone. The silence should have frightened him, but he was suffused with a peacefulness so intense that he simply sat there on the moss for a long time, listening only to the sounds of his own breath rising and falling in his lungs.

Presently, he realized that another sound was reaching his ears, so soft and at such a great distance that his own heartbeat had masked it until now. Curious, he rose to his feet and began to walk. There was no telling how far he walked, but as he felt no exertion this did not trouble him. After a while, the whisper of sound grew more compelling and Ukitake began to jog, running faster and faster through the trees.

With a face-splitting grin, he let out a whoop into the dewy soft light as the trees blurred around him.

Ahead of him rose a hill, and with more instinct than reason driving him, he put on even greater speed. Timing it perfectly, as his foot hit the very peak of the hillock, he _launched_.

Almost, he did fly. Not like a hawk or a sparrow, instead he caromed through the air in a long, high arc that carried him miles and miles in the space of a few heartbeats, and when the earth finally rushed up to meet him he tucked his knees and landed easily on a rocky outcropping.

Thunder erupted all around him, and he was standing at the edge of the sea.

He felt the hazy, shrouded woods looming behind him, but could not draw his eyes from the ocean. It seemed bigger than before, bolder; light danced and glittered across its infinite surface like a million diamonds, bringing tears to Ukitake's eyes. His heart leaped into his throat and he held his hands up to the wind as another wave crashed against the rock beneath him, showering him with briny droplets.

Jyuushirou laughed, full and loud, as wave after wave rushed to greet him. After a while the thrill abated and, thoroughly soaked anyway, he took a step to the edge, contemplating a dive deep into the swells below.

_Be careful what you wish for._

Ukitake stumbled back, snapped out of his daze by a deep voice that seemed to rumble out of the very ocean depths before him.

_Did I ask for anything_? he wondered.

_Those who wish to dive into such power as mine must know their own hearts first. And the cost of their desires should be weighed._ The words came slowly, ponderously, hammered out by the crash and hiss of the waves and the organic symphony of the seething _mer_ itself.

Ukitake stared at the horizon, a frown playing across his face. _Are you reading my thoughts?_

The sea roiled, but did not answer. Frustrated, Ukitake walked again to the cliff's edge.

"Why don't you tell me what I desire?" he shouted into the wind.

It whipped up around him, nearly tipping him over. Gasping, he dropped to his knees and scrabbled back from the precipice, heart racing.

_Foolish one,_ the ocean growled again. _If you do not know your own heart, you will never know mine._

A great roll of thunder began, then, building and building in pitch until it seemed to split Ukitake's skull open. The ground beneath him shook and, on all fours, he held on for dear life. Fearing an earthquake, he looked up just into time to see the tsunami.

It reached a hundred feet into the air, two hundred, unfathomably fast and stretching from horizon to horizon.

Before he could draw breath to scream, it slammed into him.

With a shrieking gasp, Ukitake sat bolt upright in bed. His heart beat as if to escape from his chest; trembling, Jyuushirou gagged and coughed, coughed again and dragged a lungful of air into his burning lungs.

"Jyuushirou!" Shironen was at his door, a morning robe thrown hastily around her shoulders. Worry painted her delicate features. "Are you alright?" She rushed immediately to his bedside.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, wiping his forehead with a shaking hand. It came away sopping wet.

"You're not fine," Shironen replied tersely, reaching for the cloth that was always kept ready at his bedside and which he'd not needed for months and months. "You're falling ill again." She looked ready to burst into tears.

Taking a deep breath through his burning throat, Jyuushirou reached up and gently stopped his sister from mopping his brow. He gazed earnestly into her frightened eyes.

"I'm fine. It was a bad dream. Nothing more." He even managed a smile, although it was a bit lop-sided.

Shironen gently cupped her brother's cheek. "Are you sure?" she whispered, looking for all the world like the little girl she'd once been.

Ukitake took her hand and kissed the knuckles. "Positive," he assured her before succumbing to another shudder. "It was just...a _really_ bad dream."

She smiled then and pretended to be mollified, putting the towel back and settling on the edge of his pallet. "Well then, you must tell me about it and it will lose its power."

He took a shaky breath. "I really don't wan-"

"In detail. Otherwise it will haunt you." Shironen grinned at him mischievously.

Ukitake finally relaxed, chuckling at their childhood superstition. "I was at the ocean. No, first I was in a forest. And it led me to the ocean."

"That doesn't sound too frightening," his sister chided.

Jyuushirou only grew somber, his gaze distant. "The ocean spoke to me. It said I needed to know what I wanted, to know the cost, before I could achieve it."

"Wise ocean," his sister continued, expression matching his. "What do you think it means?"

Ukitake realized he was staring intently in the direction of the chest containing his zanpaktou and forced himself to smile for his sister. "I think it means I shouldn't eat sweets so late at night anymore."

Kimi came in to find her eldest offspring giggling like children. "Jyuushirou, are you alright? We heard a racket."

"I'm fine, Mother," Ukitake replied, grateful that his sister had been the first to arrive. "A dream, nothing more."

"Well, go wash up, you look like you've run a footrace. And Shironen, dear, you have appointments this morning. You cannot be late for them."

"Yes, Mother," her daughter replied, delivering a hearty eye roll that only her brother could see as she got to her feet and obediently slipped off behind her parent.

It wasn't until later, when Ukitake was washed and dressed and back at First Squad for morning sessions, that he realized he'd forgotten to ask his sister the question she'd begged him to keep until morning.

* * *

That wasn't the only thing he'd forgotten.

"You _forgot_ me!" wailed Shunsui as Ukitake entered the First dorms.

Exhausted from his restless night as well as his training sessions, Ukitake's shoulders dropped. "Sorry."

Shunsui watched him shuffle past and in the direction of his room. Appalled, he threw arms wide. "That's _it?_ I spend half the night waiting for my best friend in the universe to show up, and all you have to say is 'sorry'?"

"I _am_ sorry," Ukitake professed, letting himself - and Shunsui, who followed on his heels - into his modest soldier's quarters. "I just...forgot. I had other things on my mind."

Shunsui pulled out of his wallowing in the blink of an eye. "Everything good at home?"

"I think so," Jyuushirou replied, peeling off his sweaty hakima. "I sorta forgot to ask." Exertion plus embarrassment threatened to set his cheeks aflame.

Shunsui crossed his arms and slumped against the nearest wall, glowering. "So, you stayed home to make sure everything was ok, forgot to ask, forgot I was out waiting for you, and all you can say is 'sorry'?"

"What do you want me to say?" Ukitake snapped back, quite unlike him. "I forgot. It's not like I stood in your way or anything. I'm sure you managed to drink whatever pub dry without me." He threw his soiled clothing into his hamper with rather more force than was necessary.

"I couldn't drink a drop for worrying," Kyouraku replied with an appropriately beleaguered look on his face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I didn't sleep well." Muffled, from beneath a fresh hakima pulled over his head, Jyuushirou hoped clean clothing would diminish his haggard appearance.

It clearly didn't. "I can tell," was Shunsui's calculating reply, eyes sharp. "You sure you're all right?"

"I should ask the same. Kyouraku Shunsui, out all night and not drinking?" Jyuushirou planted hands on fists and raised an eyebrow.

Kyouraku glared back. "You're in a shitty mood."

"Likewise. If you're so concerned about my sister," he leaned hard on the word, "then why don't you go ask her? And fill me in when you get an answer; I've got rounds to do." With a sharp snap of his fresh obi, from which his zanpaktou dangled, Ukitake shouldered his way past his friend and outside, where he marched off down the hallway without looking back.

"Maybe I will!" came the delayed reply.

Ukitake got around a corner and out of sight before staggering to a halt, grasping a railing with one hand and running a hand through his hair with another. _What the hells is wrong with me?_ he wondered. _I _never_ fight with Shunsui. Not like that._

Unconsciously, his free hand dropped to hilt. A long moment passed while he caught his breath, but finally he straightened and marched on to report for rounds.

His sword said not a word.

* * *

Shunsui made a great show of stomping away from Ukitake's room, his ire fueled by the fact that there was no one around to see it. In a foul mood, he deeply regretted his current sobriety and despite the effect of love-sickness on his palate, decided then and there to get as drunk as possible.

_That'll show 'em_, he thought grumpily without having any exact idea as to what it would show whom.

"Kyouraku-san!" A Seat ran up behind him, out of breath. "You are summoned."

"Fuck." Shunsui stomped to a halt, fists on hips and glared.

The seat looked apologetic. "I'm not to leave your side until you report to Yamamoto-sutaicho."

_Fuckity fuck fuck_. This Shunsui kept to himself, although his glare did not lessen. Without a word, he pivoted on his heel and stormed off in the direction of the sutaicho's personal quarters, perversely happy to at least have somewhere to storm off _to_.

Arriving at the low, sprawling building, Shunsui was somewhat taken aback to see the front door was slid partially ajar. He traded curious looks with the Seat who had done his duty and followed him this far, but the man simply shrugged. With a grimace, Shunsui turned back and slid the door open all the way, easing himself inside the doorway.

"Oiy? Hello?" Nothing. Shunsui looked back over his shoulder, but the Seat was gone. _Great_. Nothing else for it, Kyouraku let himself all the way inside and slid the door shut.

"Hey, Yama-, er, sutaicho? Sir?" Growing equal parts more annoyed and curious, he meandered his way deeper into the building, peering into one empty room after another. "Oiy!"

Silence. Finding himself facing an interior garden at the center of the house, he put hands to hips once more and stared around in puzzlement. _Maybe the old goat is out-?_

A sword came at his head.

Cursing viciously, Shunsui leaped out of the way in the nick of time, drawing Katen Kyokotsu in the same breath. Skidding to a halt on the other side of the garden, Shunsui felt adrenaline and reiatsu surge through his limbs like a drug, heightening his senses, changing his balance. In the back of his head, Katen laughed like a wild thing.

Shunsui ignored it. Across the garden, drawn and ready, stood Sasakibe.

Kyouraku froze in confusion. The newest shinigami in First wasted no time taking advantage of it; he flickered out of shunpo behind Shunsui, poised for a wicked down-cut.

Shunsui dropped to his knees, crossing his blades over his head; they caught the blow neatly in the middle. Zanpaktou-screech reverberated around the enclosure.

"Fuck, man - what are you doing?" Shunsui snapped; muscles bulging, he forced his way to his feet, throwing off the enemy blade in the process. Sasakibe danced back, only to flicker around the square and then drop onto the pavestones behind Shunsui again.

With another curse, Kyouraku pulled on of his favorite tricks. He shunpo'd - _to the same place_. It was an odd quirk of physics that he and Ukitake had perfected.

Sasakibe reappeared to the spot where he thought Shunsui must have gone, and Kyouraku had the distinct pleasure of seeing the man's eyes widen in surprise while Shunsui chanted under his breath and dumped a fire spell at Sasakibe's feet.

Curse the man, he was wickedly fast and buzzed clear, although this time he utilized more caution in his maneuvers. Appearing at the far side of the garden, Sasakibe paused and eyeballed his opponent.

Shunsui gave him the toothiest grin possible. "If you wanted to dance, you could have asked like a gentleman."

Sasakibe's eyes narrowed once more. He did not move, though, speaking aloud instead, but not to Shunsui. "_Ugate, Gonryōmaru."_

GODSDAMMIT_. "Hana kaze midarete, kashin naki, tenpū midarete, tenma warau!" Why do you have to have such a fucking long shikai command?_ he mentally roared at Katen.

A hearty laugh was its only reply.

In the meantime, Shunsui had to pull out some fancy footwork in order to keep his head on his shoulders while Sasakibe pressed him hard. _What game shall we play today?_ he panted, his blood rising to the challenge of this formidable opponent. He was actually starting to have fun now.

_Hmmmmm_, hummed Katen, taking its time to choose while Shunsui traded blows with Sasakibe. When one of Gonyomaru's maneuvers managed to slice off a sizeable chunk of Shunsui's hakima, he growled.

_Come on! Pick something already!_

Katen pouted in a most unmistakeable way. Finally, it whispered. _Darumasan ga Korond._

NICE. Shunsui grinned, and leaped to the farthest point of the garden from Sasakibe. There he planted his feet and turned his back quite intentionally to his foe.

In a loud ringing voice, he called out. "_Daruma-san ga koronda_!"

Sasakibe hesitated for a moment, confused, but eventually slipped forward to close the distance.

Shunsui turned around. Sasakibe froze.

With a grin, Kyouraku tsked. "That's not how the game is played, friend. Rules are rules, you know."

"Rules were made to be broken." Sasakibe, speaking for the first time. Bound by Shunsui's shikai, his voice sounded strained.

"Ah, Katen Kyokotsu doesn't agree. In his games, you play by the rules, or you die." Kyouraku winked. "Let's see if you can land a blow now."

He turned around. Behind him, a long pause, and then Sasakibe wisely capitulated.

_"Hajime no ippo."_

Shunsui gave him the space of half a heartbeat before whirling around.

Sasakibe knelt on the pavestones, barely a foot away. His zanpaktou, held firm in both hands, was embedded at least 6 inches deep in Shunsui's left thigh.

Kyouraku just looked at it dumbly, for the split-second before the pain set in. _Holy fuck, he's fast!_ He dredged up the highest-level kidou spell he could muster through the agony and began chanting in his head, in rhythm with the throbbing.

"ENOUGH."

Sasakibe withdrew his sword, wiping the blade clean, sealing and sheathing it in a single fluid motion. One hand on hilt, he bowed his head and put his other fist to the ground and froze. Behind him, Yamamoto-sutaicho held both hands folded over the top of his gnarled cane.

Shunsui considered taking one last swipe at Sasakibe, furious at the pain in this leg, but some measure of military training reared up in protest and he decided against the cheap shot. Swallowing a bitter taste like bile, he sealed and sheathed his sword. He did not kneel.

"What the kind of game are you playing, Old Man?" he seethed. At his feet, Sasakibe stiffened, but did otherwise move.

Unimpressed, Yamamoto refused to rise to the jab. "I have been summoning you for weeks. You finally chose to appear. Therefore, I have chosen to withdraw a request I was going to make of you."

Kyouraku cocked his head in caution. _He's withdrawing the challenge to bankai? Or is he trying to have me killed for insubordination?_ His hand tightened on Katen's hilt.

"As a result, it is no longer a request. It is obligatory." Yamamoto continued, his tone hardening. "You will seek your _bankai_. Sasakibe will assist you."

Shunsui's jaw dropped. "I don't want to fucking spar with _him_!" he protested.

Yamamoto said nothing, he simply let loose the slightest hold on his reiatsu.

When Kyouraku could breathe again, and blink stinging tears of perspiration out of his eyes, he was on his hands and knees on the pave stones. Right next to Sasakibe.

"Your opinion is not a factor. Your path is obligatory. You chose this by refusing my summons."

"And how have I merited this...arrangement?" grated Sasakibe, easily as unhappy as Shunsui. "I accepted your summons, and your request, at first offer."

"Because you're the only other shinigami in my Gotei with the potential for it," Yamamoto spat, clearly reaching the end of his patience.

Shunsui's head shot up. "Ukitake-"

"He has potential, but a different path. You two: use each other, and you may succeed." To underscore his words, he let loose another whip-lash of reiatsu, just enough to steal both shinigami's breath and chance to argue further. "One last thing: you are to tell no one of this arrangement. If you utter a single word, I will kill you both." Genruusai turned and sauntered into the bowels of his home. "Now get out of my house. I have no more time for children who haven't yet learned how to breathe."

The instant that reiatsu faded, Shunsui and Sasakibe both flashed away. In unison, they reappeared on the lawn in front of the sutaicho's building. For a long moment, they stood regarding each other with hostile expressions, out of breath.

"I am not happy about this," Shunsui finally stated, without preamble.

"And I am so thrilled," came the exceedingly dry reply. Nonetheless, Sasakibe saluted and bowed in perfect military form. "Until next time." On that note, he vanished.

Kyouraku glared at the spot he'd been, turned and glared at the house behind him, and then glared at his sword for good measure.

_I'm holding you largely responsible for this_, he snarled silently.

The sword only laughed at him, its presence fading away until all way quiet.

Cursing fluently and long, Shunsui launched himself into shunpo and started on his almost-forgotten and long-overdue quest to get completely hammered.

* * *

He very nearly made it this time; he actually had bottle in hand at the Great Market when fate intervened once again.

"Shouldn't you be on some grand patrol?"

Shunsui spun around, but laughing green eyes glimpsed the bottle before he could hide it properly.

"I thought soldiers weren't supposed to drink on the job," UKitake Shironen continued with a delicate smirk.

"That's an old idea, and totally out of fashion," Kyouraku replied glibly, tucking his hands and the bottle behind his back. "It's not easy being a trailblazer, but I do my best to improve my fellow man."

Shironen giggled. "I'm sure Soul Society would be a much different place without your influence," was her enigmatic reply. With another delicious twist of her lips, she shifted her sun parasol and joined the flow of people meandering through the Market.

"Uh...thanks?" Shunsui stared at the retreating figure, then down at the bottle in hand, and had no trouble making a decision. Tucking the bottle into a stack of produce on a cart, he slipped off after her.

"You're following me," she replied without looking back.

"I am escorting you," Kyouraku corrected. "A woman of your singular charms should not be wandering around the Market alone. There are questionable characters about."

"Indeed," Shironen replied, slipping sideways towards a narrower - and less busy - alleyway. "I might run into someone disreputable and then where would I be?"

"It doesn't bear thinking about," Shunsui replied, more honestly than he should have. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating as he followed in her wake.

One step ahead, she slipped around a corner. Shunsui followed, only to find the alley empty. "Shir-?" His teeth clacked shut as a thin blade, razor-sharp, appeared at his jugular.

"Well, then, it is good that I know a thing or two about defending myself," Shironen purred in his ear. She had somehow managed to twist his wrist up between his shoulder blades and was pressed against his back, her blade a hair's breadth away from drawing blood.

Shunsui pretty much lost all hope of pretending he wasn't falling head over heels for this woman.

"It is indeed," he panted, pulse racing with every emotion but fear. Quick as a wink, he grabbed her hand in his, spun her around like a dance lead while ducking under her knife, and had their positions reversed. His grip held her knife hand in a merciless lock at the small of her back, while he drew her hard up against him, effectively cutting off any chance of her moving. He grinned down into her surprised eyes like a hungry wolf. "Perhaps you could stand to learn a few more moves."

Satisfaction and surprise swapped places, as Shunsui felt a gentle tapping at his vitals. He froze as Shironen broke out into a smirk; while Shunsui had been busy twirling her around, she'd gotten a second knife out and in place to castrate him.

Kyouraku chuckled, releasing her and stepped back slowly, hands raised in defeat. 'I apologize, my sweet. I didn't realize you had thorns."

"Only when necessary," she replied primly, slipping her blades back up her sleeves in a seamless motion. "My parasol, please?" And then she was all composed aristocrat again, smiling beatifically up at him.

He handed it to her, grinning in a way that probably looked totally stupid, and offered her an elaborate bow as she took it, earning him another giggle.

Shironen inclined her head at him and, tucking the sun shade in one elbow, offered him the other. "Now, unless you have somewhere more important to be, I would love to have an escort after all. Not out of necessity mind you, but out of..." she trailed off, cheeks pinking.

"The pleasure of your company?" Shunsui covered. "My sweet, you are too generous." He took her arm, swearing that he could feel it trembling, and together they rejoined the teeming masses on in the Marketplace.

They meandered for a while, arm in arm, stopping here and there at various vendors to purchase a small basket of starfruit here, some ribbons there, one or two larger packages that Shironen arranged to have delivered to Ugendo. As the sun rose along with the temperature, the early afternoon heat settled on the Market like a blanket and before long Shironen, despite her sun shade, snapped out a fan from her sleeve (which scared Shunsui badly for a moment).

"My lady, may I offer some refreshment?" Kyouraku offered.

Shironen quirked an eyebrow, glancing down at his empty hands. "You seem to have lost your bottle, sir," she quipped.

"I had something else in mind, actually," he replied, leaning in and dropping his voice to a conspiratorial tone. "If you trust me, that is."

She blinked at him, doe-eyed. "Is there any reason why I shouldn't?"

Gods help him, he wanted to kiss her. "Never," he replied, wrapping his arm tightly around hers and drawing her close. "Now hold on. It helps to close your eyes."

"Close m-?"

Shunsui flashed. It was easy to carry her along; her tiny frame and lack of reiatsu made her practically weightless to his skill. Still, he paused as the world came back into focus and caught her predictable stumble.

She squeaked and threw her other arm around his, holding on for dear life. Eyes wide, she gasped, "What was that?"

"Shunpo," he replied. "I promise, if you close your eyes it'll get easier."

She gave him one sidelong glance, and then closed her eyes, determined not to squawk again.

She looked absolutely sumptuous. Shunsui ground his teeth together and flashed, and this time he did not stop.

They covered a lot of ground. For the first miles, Shironen had her eyes squinched tight shut, her grip tight, but after a while she began to relax. Her head would pivot curiously every time they touched ground, as if she were trying to take in the sounds of their surrounding before the world blurred again. At one point, she even peeked her eyes open the very teeniest bit.

"Keep them closed," he whispered into her ear. "I want to surprise you."

She cocked her head at him but complied, a small smile playing across her lips.

A few more flash-steps and they settled on a grassy hillock. Shunsui steadied his companion, turning her in just the right direction, and then spoke softly. "Ok, now you can open them."

Green eyes drifted open, looking amused, before popping wide open in awe. "Oooh..." she breathed, taking a few steps in pure wonder.

They were in an ocean of wild grass, softly rolling hills extending for leagues in every direction. This early in the summer the wild flowers were in full bloom, teaming with honeybees and butterflies and every color the soul could imagine. On their hill stood a live oak, twisted by the breezes that never ceased in this valley. It nevertheless stood as a proud testimony against them, offering a wide swath of shade at its base.

Shironen didn't even seem to notice it at first, she simply stood there and drank in the sweet, cool breeze and the shifting kaleidoscope of color around her. When she finally turned to look at Shunsui again, her eyes were damp.

"This is so beautiful," she said hoarsely, color coming into her cheeks. "How do you know about this place?"

Kyouraku shrugged, feeling oddly cavalier at the moment. "I'm fond of hiding places. And of beauty," he added carefully, watching her cheeks darken further. "This is one of my very favorite escapes," he added.

"It must be far from Sereitei," Shironen replied, gazing out again at the distant mountains which showed not a single sign of settlement.

"Nowhere is far with shunpo." Kyouraku found himself drawn to Shironen's side. A sidelong glance showed him a single tear as it fell from her stunning eyes. "Hey," he said in hushed alarm. "I didn't mean to make you sad."

Shironen smiled, blinking back further tears, though her eyes were full of emotion. "I'm not sad. I'm just... To have a place like this, to be able to escape to it whenever you want, in a matter of moments..." Her voice dropped. "Kyouraku-san, I am jealous."

He grinned and rocked back on his heels. "Don't worry, I'll be happy to bring you here any time you'd like."

"That's very kind of you," she said, barely above a whisper. Her eyes were downcast.

Shunsui frowned. "That's- I mean...well, if you want to." Confusion reigned in his poor, besotted mind.

Shironen seemed to notice, and gave him a shy smile. "Thank you for bringing me here," she said, in a tone that sounded oddly final. Then her head tilted. "You're different than I thought you'd be."

"Yeah, I hear that a lot," Shunsui tucked his thumbs into his obi and turned on his heel, ambling back to the oak tree. The sun felt too bright all of a sudden.

Shironen watched him, curiosity tripping over her features. "How do you mean?"

"Oh, you know," he said nonchalantly. "Nobility and all that nonsense. I imagine I'm supposed to be propped up in a throne room somewhere, slowly suffocating to death." He settled himself in a tangle of roots and laced his fingers behind his head, meeting her gaze with hooded eyes. "The 'elevated' life just wasn't for me."

Her eyebrows drew together as she drew closer. "You don't like being a High Noble?"

"Fuck no. Pardon my language." He waved a hand through the air aimlessly. "I mean, sure it's nice not to have to worry about things like money or whatever, but..." He let his eyes drift closed. "I look at you guys, at Ugendo, and how happy you all are and how much you all love each other. Richness can be measured in many ways." He opened his eyes again and met her somber eyes. "In some ways, you're vastly richer than I will ever be."

A passing cloud hid the sun just then, and Shironen shuddered and as she slid to her knees on the grass nearby, she looked a tad pale. "You're not happy at home?" she whispered, eyes huge.

"I spend the least amount of time there possible, so don't fret. I'm plenty happy." He smiled, his eyes hooding over again as he gazed at her. "Especially now."

Sparkling green orbs vanished behind thick, lowered lashes. "You shouldn't say such things."

"I'll keep them to myself, if you'd prefer," he replied. His tone implied otherwise.

She blushed. "That would be best. Why don't you like your family?"

"Because they hate my guts. The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you." He reached a finger and tipped her chin up until her eyes met his. "Do you really want to talk about my family?" He grazed her bottom lip with his thumb, gentle as a butterfly's wing.

She shivered, her lips parting slightly. "No," she breathed.

Shunsui leaned over and kissed her.

It was unlike anything else he'd ever experienced. She tasted like honeysuckle and tears and wild plum. It lasted only a moment, but they were both trembling by the time they pulled apart.

"You shouldn't have done that." Shironen's eyes screamed otherwise.

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Shunsui replied immediately, and with depth of feeling. But then he smiled and raised an arm up. "But not today. Despite my reputation, I swear it's not my habit to whisk off gorgeous women and seduce them under my favorite tree."

A glint of amusement sprang back into liquid green eyes. "Just ones that almost gutted you in the Market?"

"In that, sweet pea, you are in a category all by yourself." He gestured with his hand. "Come, it's a perfect day for a nap."

She drew back, looking at him askance.

"I promise to be a total gentleman," Kyouraku swore, his eyes drifting shut. "The best way to pass the hottest part of the day is to sleep through it."

He leaned back and waited. Minutes later, to the drone of honeybees, he felt her slender frame sidle up and gently lean against him. She nestled her head against his shoulder in a perfectly delicate and chaste way, and sighed.

Shunsui let out a long slow breath, and by time it was done they were both asleep.

* * *

Shironen shot straight upwards. Shunsui followed, hand dropping to hilt. "What is it?"

"It's late," she gulped, trotting to the hillside to watch the sun touch the tops of the distant mountains. "Oh gods, it's _really_ late."

"Come." He commaned, striding towards her with hand extended. She took it without a word, eyes snapping shut, and together they took off.

He made it in half the time it had taken before; even still, all but one or two straggling vendors had packed up shop and the Market was practically deserted.

Shironen gasped a very unladylike word under her breath and hiked up her skirts. "Mother is going to be furious," she hissed, half-running in the direction of Ugendo.

"Here, I'll take you home. It'll take no time at all," Shunsui offered, holding out his hand again.

"That would be even worse!" Shironen called back to him as she ran as fast as she could ahead of him, diving down a side street. Shunsui grimaced and with a twitch of shunpo caught up with her.

Just in time to see her run straight into Jyuushirou.

He caught his sister easily, catching her as she stumbled, his hazel eyes fading from fear to relief. Then he looked up and saw Shunsui.

His expression slowly turned thunderous.

"Shironen, we've been looking every where for you." Ukitake chided softly, not taking his eyes off his guilt-ridden friend's face. "You should have been home hours ago. Tonight is a big night for you." He finally broke gaze and looked down at his sister with a tight smile.

She grasped his upper arm with a sick expression on her face. "Brother, I'm so sorry. I lost track of time-"

"It's all my fault," Kyouraku began, rushing to her defense. "I should have known better-"

"Yes, you should have." Ukitake bit off each word, he tone scathing, but turned his back and leaned protectively over his sister. "Come on, I'll take you home." He readied shunpo.

"Jyuushirou, I swear-" Shunsui started again.

"I'll see you back at the barracks." In a tone like ice, Ukitake flashed away with this sister in tow without another glance backwards.

"Nothing happened!" Shunsui shouted after them, although he knew his best friend would be out of earshot already. His shoulders drooped and he stood there for a long time by himself, feeling more alone than ever.

"Kyouraku-san!" A voice shook him out of his stupor. Shunsui turned to see one of his father's servants running towards him, red-faced and dripping with sweat. "Sir, you are summed back to the manor at once."

"Too fucking bad," Shunsui snarled, patting through his robes for a bottle of sake, remembered it had been ditched on a produce cart, and swore fluently. He turned his ire on the servant. "_Home_ is the last place in the world I want to be right now." He began to stalk off.

The servant prostrated himself, giving Shunsui pause. "Please, sir, I am ordered to bring you home upon pain of death."

"Oh please," Shunsui started, then stopped to consider. His father had never bothered to summon his second son before. And knowing his patriarch, the death sentence wasn't entirely out of the question. "Ok, fine." He was certain he had sake stashed in his room, which would beat trying to rustle up a sake trader this time of day. "I'll beat you there," he added, and vanished in a buzz of shunpo.

* * *

He arrived in no time, not concerned in the least about the poor servant who would have to travel on foot for the better part of the evening before he too would arrive back at the Kyouraku manse. Shunsui strode through its dark, cloistered walls, his long legs eating ground as he wove deeper and deeper into the looming building.

_You'd think we could afford some fucking candles,_ he seethed, refusing to cast demon light out of pure spite. He knew these hateful halls blind anyway.

Before long, he rounded his way into the secretary Yemon's room, only to find it unoccupied, the desktop clear of paperwork.

_That's odd,_ Shunsui noted, pushing the heavy, partially-concealed door into the main chamber that usually housed the only Kyourakus of any import around here.

That room, too, was empty, the massive fireplace dark and cold. Only the vague smell of charcoal lingered in the air; the room hadn't been used for days, it seemed. _Odder still._

Mystified, he retraced his steps back to the section of the sprawling manse that housed the personal apartments. His father's door was closed tight, but a bit further down the hallways he passed his brother's rooms. That door was thrown wide open; brilliant candlelight blazed within, industrious servants bustling around in an organized frenzy. It was hard to tell if they were clearing the room or restoring it to its normal state.

_So, my brother has been traveling,_ Shunsui mused, changing his direction once more. _Either has been, or is about to. Wonder what the hell-all that has to do with me._

Around a turret and down several flights of steps, Shunsui strode up to another door and pushed it open. It creaked on its hinges, tiny puffs of dust stirred up by its passing. Wrinkling his nose, he ignored the candles and snapped out a brief incantation. The room filled with a soft, rusty light.

It had been a long time since he'd been home. His room looked like a well-appointed but ill-kept boudoir. The reception room's scarf-draped lanterns looked like wilting flowers, but he ignored them and strode on through to his inner chamber. An enormous and elaborately carved bed of ebony wood took up almost half the bedroom, it too draped in thick, silk curtains and satin sheets in tumbled chaos over and around the thick mattress. He passed a bathroom that could have housed a dozen shinigami and dove straight into a closet bigger than most homes in the districts. Knowing his wardrobe by heart, he made his way quickly into its depths, reaching behind heavy embroidered robes resplendent with clan insignia and found his sake stash.

He took a long, deep pull, waiting for the comforting burn to race through his veins and settle him down. While he waited, he contemplated his image in a floor-to-ceiling hammered mirror at the long end of his wardrobe.

Shunsui didn't look like a Kyouraku. He looked like a soldier, filthy dirty with a nasty grimace and an unfathomable look in his shadowed eyes. He grunted, taking another drag at the sake jug, and glanced at the rainbow of clan robes draped all around him. An official summons demanded that he be properly attired, after all.

A warm glow began in the pit of his stomach, and Shunsui made his decision. Finishing off the bottle, he threw it against the paver stones beneath his feet where it shattered.

He turned and strode out of the closet without changing a shred of clothing, confidence returning with every step. _Let them take me as I am. Father and Akihiko can suck my dick. _He headed back towards the entrance to his apartments and found a servant was cowering at his doorway.

"Where are they?" he barked. The servant sank further into the carpets.

"In the Great Room," she all but whispered. The thing was trembling like a leaf.

He paused, dropping a large hand on top of her head, engulfing it. "Thank you," he said softly, turning and striding off before he could see her straighten and stare after him.

Ok, something really strange was going on. He was never summoned home, Yemon was never out of his room, and the Great Room hadn't been used since before Shunsui's mother died. Strangely glad he'd opted for his military robes, he ate ground down corridor after corridor, making his way to the center of the complex.

Where other nobles housed elaborate and exotic gardens in their center courtyards, the Kyourakus had long ago done away with such frivolity. High, arching ceilings had been erected, ringed by exquisite stained glass windows that once upon a time had been able to open to the summer breezes. With full night outside, they loomed dully above, lit only by the large fire ablaze in the hearth that took up the short end of one side of the immense hallway.

Standing before the blaze, several figures appeared backlit, and exasperated, Shunsui strode along the empty, enormous chamber. As he neared the fire, his hand fell unconsciously onto the hilt of his large sword.

"About time you showed up," Akihiko sneered, finishing a signature with a flourish and waving his hand dismissively.

Yemon bowed away, sprinkling sand on the bottom of the freshly-signed scroll, before rolling it up. Gathering it, and a dozen or more similar into his arms, he bowed again and disappeared into the shadows.

"Didn't realize my presence was desired. It certainly hasn't ever been before." Shunsui planted himself before his brother, arms crossed. His father sat off to the side, hulking in a chair, covered with animal skins. He said nothing, but hooded eyes glittered sharply in the firelight.

"Times change," Akihiko said simply, handing his writing instrument to a cowering servant and waving him off too. "Our House has languished far too long. It is time to breathe new life and glory into the Kyouraku name."

Shunsui's eyebrow raised, but he said nothing. Akihiko's expression turned dour.

"For years you've whored and drunk and played at being soldier. It's time to face reality and your duties to the Clan," his brother proclaimed.

"You really think that's going to happen?" Shunsui asked tightly. At his hip, Katen Kyokotsu thrummed with a dark, sinister energy.

"It's not a matter of choice," Akihiko replied, turning aside to a small writing table where he loomed over various parchments and scrolls. "I am assigning you proprietorship over the manse, its management and all its servants. You will also spend two days a week with Yemon learning the accounts." He shuffled through his papers.

Shunsui laughed out loud. "No fucking way. I have patrols all week."

"Your military career is at an end," Ahikiko declared casually. "Your duty is to your family, your Clan and your House. Yamamoto Genruusai will comply." His voice curled into a sneer at the name.

"_I_ won't." Katen fairly leapt off his hip; Shunsui dropped a hand to hilt, to steady it, but the overload of energy pouring out of his soulsource set his head thrumming.

Akihiko looked up, a disinterested look in his hooded eyes. "You must. I will be otherwise occupied."

"Oh really." Shunsui matched his brother's sneer perfectly. "Pray tell what is so important that you would deign to saddle me with responsibility?"

"I am taking a wife." Akihiko scritched a moment more and then straightened. He regarded his brother icily. "I intend to extend the family line, as it should be."

One of Shunsui's eyebrows crawled up nearly to his hairline. "What crazy, desperate, horse-faced bitch actually agreed to marry you?"

The slap across his cheeks didn't hurt much, but the sound reverberated around the Great Room and echoed off into the distance.

Akihiko glared daggers. "Don't be obscene," he hissed. "You'd best curb your tongue before my future wife graces these halls. I won't have you poisoning her ears with your filth." Akihiko smiled then, although it didn't reach his eyes. "It is an honor to any house to marry into Clan Kyouraku. Our lines can be traced back for eons. I've been entertaining offers for decades, as an _heir_ must do," he added harshly. His eyes turned cruel. "You might recognize the name, actually. Seems you're familiar with the nobodies."

A distant ringing started up in Shunsui's ears. Besieged by sudden vertigo, Shunsui felt a gape stealing across his face as the very last words in the universe he could dream of hearing fell from his brother's lips.

"The end of the summer will see me wed to Ukitake Shironen."


	25. Surface Tension

Ukitake jerked upright in bed, a wrenching gasp tearing at his throat. Once he found his voice, he warbled a shaky incantation, dragging one ragged breath after another into his lungs as the room slowly lit with demon glow. Raking a hand through his hair, he threw back the blankets and let the cool night air prick at his skin and help shock him back to sanity. He set there mentally recited ancient passages from his studies until the terror of the tsunami and its crushing power receded.

Same damn dream. Every single night. It visited him no matter how long or short he slept. Sometimes, he woke before he got to the ocean at all, but no matter what, whenever he slept, the dream began afresh. As the sleep deprivation began to accumulate, Jyuushirou found himself nodding off at the worst possible times; at his desk, or waiting for his turn to spar in training. Always, he faced the sea and its thundering voice. He'd asked every question he could think of, even once out of desperation he tried commanding the wave to stop. It made no difference; no matter when he awoke, he woke gasping with dread.

This night, the dream did him a favor, for he woke just in time to brace himself for an expected and inevitable confrontation.

"_You knew, _didn't you?_"_

Jyuushirou eased himself out of bed, reaching for a clean hakima and slipping it across his shoulders before turning around to reply. He met Kyouraku's seething glare resolutely.

"Yes, of course I knew. The contracts were signed earlier today." He calmly fielded the intense betrayal in Shunsui's ochre eyes. "Don't look at me like that. Nobles marry all the time and feelings are rarely a consideration. You know that. _She_ knows that."

Kyouraku paced the tiny room like a caged leopard, his hands clenching and unclenching. "How can you let this happen? She's your _sister_ for gods sakes, and she doesn't even know Ahi- what he's-" He choked off, an ill hue emerging underneath his tanned pallor. "_You_ know what he's like!" he finally spluttered, jabbing an accusatory finger at Jyuushirou.

Ukitake placed a hand on each of Shunsui's broad shoulders, forcing him to stand still and meet his eyes. "I told you to hope for nothing more than friendship from my sister, Shunsui. I _begged _you."

Kyouraku reared back, flaring. "You just assumed I had no chance with her?"

Ukitake's eyes twisted in agony. "_Second _son of Kyouraku," he grated. "_You_ should have known that."

Shunsui's eyes went flat; a dead chill filled on the room. "I can't believe you actually said that to me."

Jyuushirou's hands flopped at his sides. "I would give anything not to have to, but that's just...the way things are." His eyes implored Shunsui to see reason. "I wish it wasn't, for both your sakes. But wishes don't..." He trailed off, swallowing a despair that mirrored his friend's.

Shunsui stood like a man on death row for a long moment. "Why House Kyouraku?" he finally whispered, hoarse. "Of all the noble families in the universe, _why us?_"

Ukitake took a deep breath, his honor refusing to allowing him to hedge on the answer. "Because your family offered mine the most money. And because she met _you,"_ Ukitake continued over Shunsui's jaw dropping open in stricken protest. "I tried to caution Shironen not to judge your family based on her experience of you, but," His face crumpled. "I don't think she took it quite the right way."

Shunsui just blinked, shock and horror warring across his face. "How much is my father paying for her?" he asked, in an oddly removed way. Then his face twisted. "Wait, why are _we _paying _you _anyway? That's not the way a dowry works." He had the distinct feeling he was falling down a long, black hole with no bottom.

Jyuushirou sighed and broke away, slinking back to his pallet as if weary beyond words. "My family can offer a dowry that has nothing to do with money."

Shunsui reached a level of confusion that broached madness. "You're making no sense; Clan Ukitake has _nothing_!"

"Financially, we're hardly impressive, you're correct," Ukitake replied dryly. He paused, gathering his words. "Shunsui, how many of us are there?"

Shunsui's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Ukitake folded his hands patiently, expression tight. "How many Ukitakes are in my immediate family?"

Kyouraku's brain seemed paralyzed. "You've got, uh, three sisters-"

"And five brothers," Jyuushirou finished, his gaze intense. "That's nine children, Shunsui. In one generation."

Kyouraku threw his hands up. "So?"

"We're all true-births."

The small hairs on the back of Shunsui's neck rose. "_Bakana_."

"And I would lie about this, why?" Ukitake returned, looking grim. "My mother birthed us all. You never thought it strange that we all bear an uncanny resemblance to each other, and to my parents?"

"But that's-" Shunsui's jaw snapped shut. Virtually unheard of. It was the nature of Soul Society that souls were always coming and living and going, in accordance with lives and deaths and births on Earth. True-births were a subject of much debate among philosophers and medical professionals alike as to whether or not they were an unusual way for souls to enter the realm, or the creation of entirely new beings. Regardless, they happened so rarely - once or twice per generation in nobles, vastly less often in commoners - that it was normal for nobles and peasants both to adopt 'families' from existing souls. Peasants, of course, had to take on new members as they came, through luck or chance or circumstance. Nobles could be much more discriminating.

Ukitake's eyes gleamed emerald in the demon-light. "Your family has a preference for finding wives that tend to true-birth. That's how you and your brother exist in the first place."

The truth struck home and lodged in Shunsui's throat. Both he and Akihiko were both blood-related to their line, although their mother died before she could produce more than two offspring. It was part of the Kyouraku boast; they might be second to the Kuchiki clan in wealth, but their blood lines ran truer than any other House in Soul Society.

Shunsui's knees gave out; he dropped to a crouch, held up only by the wall behind him. "I have just as much chance of progeniture as my brother."

"I know," Jyuushirou sighed, "and I think her heart would have been yours, as well." He raised agonized eyes to his friend's. "But you're not the son your father is looking to marry off, Shunsui. I'm so-"

"_Don't." _ Kyouraku's hands engulfed his head as if he were trying to keep it from exploding. "There has to be something that can be done."

Ukitake's eyes slid shut. "The contracts are signed, Shunsui. There is no going back now."

Kyouraku's fists drew tight; what he imagined he was strangling didn't bear thought. A long time passed, and by the time he spoke he was trembling with abject misery. "What am I supposed to do?"

"The only thing you can do is make this as uncomplicated as possible." Unspeakable sadness shimmered in Jyuushirou's eyes. "She's in a tricky situation, Shunsui. Let her do what she must, without bringing to bear how hard it really is. If you truly love her as I have a feeling you do, you must let her go-"

Kyouraku launched to his feet, cold fury pouring off of him. "What is _wrong_ with you Ukitakes? Do you just accept _everything_? Your illness, Shironen's marriage... fates worse than death are just _okay_ by you?!" Shunsui was shouting now, something fervid in his eyes that sent shivers down Jyuushirou's back. "Why the hell won't you do anything? What does it take for you to _fight_ for something!?"

Jyuushirou stared at him open-mouthed, a cold anger steeling through his veins along with something akin to shame. "Shunsui, that's not fair."

"Don't talk to me about 'unfair'!" Kyouraku snarled in disgust and turned for the door.

Jyuushirou rocketed to his feet. "Kyouraku, wait." Shunsui's stride didn't falter. Desperate, Ukitake pleaded, "Can't you at least try to see the bright side?"

Shunsui threw the door open, but halted in the doorway, back still turned. "What bright side could there possibly be to any of this?"

Ukitake tried to stay calm, but his voice came out low and fervent. "You and I will finally be brothers. Real brothers." A tremor shivered through his pale limbs.

Kyouraku just stood there, like a statue. When he finally turned to look over his shoulder, the black betrayal in his eyes stole Ukitake's breath away.

"In my book, we already were. But I guess that was just me." Without further pause, Shunsui stormed out and slammed the door behind him.

As dawn broke, he was beating down a different door.

"Get up," Shunsui snapped at a newly-awakened and utterly shocked Sasakibe. "I need to beat the shit out of something." With a glare, he turned on his heel and headed for the nearest shielded training ground, certain his new sparring partner would follow shortly.

* * *

"Enough!" Sasakibe's ragged shout brought the spar to a screeching halt. His lithe, thin frame was covered in sweat and dirt and blood, visible through multiple slashes and tears in his shinigami robes. He sucked wind until Kyouraku sealed his sword with a disgruntled growl; each lowered his own zanpaktou in accordance.

Sasakibe's legs gave out and he slumped to the ground, resting his head against the pommel of his sword while he tried to still the trembling in his fatigued limbs. A yard away, Shunsui threw his swords down in disgust and flopped onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. The noonday sun beat down on them mercilessly while the two men fought through their exhaustion.

When he could speak again, Sasakibe raised wary eyes and looked at the prone figure beside him. "Gods above, Kyouraku, are you trying to kill me or yourself?"

"What difference does it make?" Shunsui rasped, scrubbing his hands across his face and pushing himself up to a half-sit.

"You should not speak so; every life has value, even when it must be taken." Sasakibe's reply was somber.

"Can't say I agree." Shunsui returned, his tone bleak. "Some people are better off dead."

Sasakibe wrapped hands around hilt and raised serious, probing eyes. "If you fight with such darkness in your heart, it will be dangerous. Innocent people might be killed. You might be killed."

"Trust me, that'd be doing me a favor," Shunsui returned, working his tongue around and spitting out blood and dirt and part of a tooth. He dragged himself to his feet, staggering over to offer Sasakibe a hand.

He took it, expression wary while he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "I didn't realize I would be training with a suicidal."

"I didn't realize I was getting a philosopher," Kyouraku snapped back. "If you ever kill me, trust me - I'll make you work for it."

"If I ever kill you, at least one of us with mourn it." Sasakibe saluted Shunsui and sheathed his sword.

"I'll never know," Kyouraku replied, a tired, bitter smirk crawling across his face. He offered a shorter salute, and flashed away.

Sasakibe was honestly impressed that the man had enough energy left for shunpo. He stood under the sweltering sun, watching the direction his strange new sparring partner had taken, until another source of heat to begin beating against his back.

"Well?" Yamamoto barked.

Sasakibe did not turn. "Is he insane?"

"Hard to tell," the captain-commander replied. "Not yet, I don't think."

"There is much anger in him." Sasakibe's head swiveled around to meet his commander's gaze. "His sword is full of darkness."

"I promised you an appropriate counter to your own sword. The better for you both to push yourselves to your limits, and beyond." Genruusai's fist knotted on his cane. "Have I chosen well?"

Sasakibe was a moment answering, head inclined towards his sword as if listening to something. "Yes," he finally replied, turning once more to gaze in the direction Kyouraku had gone. "I will find my bankai with this one. And, if it doesn't kill him, he will find his as well. But at what cost?" he added quietly.

Yamamoto said nothing, and when Sasakibe turned around again, he was gone.

* * *

Shunsui started awake, unsure if some sound had woken him or if it was just the searing pain in his head. Groaning, he screwed his eyes tight shut against the raging hangover his previous evening had left him as a present and reached blindly over the side of his bed. He knew for certain he had brought home no less than six bottles of sake; all he had to do was find one of the ones he hadn't poured down his throat the night before and he could tame the wild beast tearing his frontal lobes to shreds.

With a clattering tinkle, his groping hand knocked over two empties. Gritting his teeth against the assault on his sensitive ears, he stretched further, knocking over another bottle that rang hollow. Three bottles in one sitting; not the hardest he'd ever drunk, but then again, he'd always had company on his binges so three bottles in one stomach was still a new record for him. When his continued efforts left him still empty handed, he heaved himself to his hands and knees and with a steady stream of vulgarities, picked a direction and began to crawl. Surely there was some sake left somewhere, dammit?

Several minutes later, he risked a peek. The damage it did to his headache was immense, but at least he managed to spot the rest of the bottles. They were scattered around his room, two tipped over on the floor - and surely not open, right? Five bottles in one night was simply impossible - but the last one stood proudly on a low table across the room. Screwing up his courage, and holding on carefully to the carpet to make sure he didn't fall off the floor, Shunsui resumed crawling; his efforts would have impressed a pilgrim of the Basillica of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Finally, oh sweet ecstasy, the bottle was his and after a few hairy moments when he couldn't get his hands to stay steady long enough to get the cork out, Kyouraku managed to down some hair of the dog.

The room stopped spinning just about the time the bottle ran dry. Panting faintly with two parts effort, one part relief, Shunsui struggled to his feet and stretched. The maelstrom in his head had faded to a dull roar, and with a bath and a change of clothing he would be just about right as rain. He was just finishing the first task and wrapping a towel around his waist when a sound drifted in from the hallway.

Shunsui froze. Surely he was still drunk. He had to be. As if in a trance, he crossed the room and threw the heavy wooden door open.

The sound came again, echoing off the walls, and at the end of the hallway a flash of motion and color as figures vanished around the corner. Shunsui recoiled back into his room, slamming the door shut. His heart hammered in his chest, and his half-fuzzy half-throbbing brain began to race.

Shunsui donned the first robes he could get his hands on and was out the door and down the hallway before his brain could catch up. It didn't take him long to track down the noise; a small cluster of souls strolling at a languid pace through the dour halls of Kyouraku.

Akihiko was in his element, lord of all he surveyed, and leading the group on what was clearly a tour of the premises. Who the guests were was not hard to guess; an expression of the wooing groom-to-be was fixed on the normally cruel lines of Akihiko's face as if by sheer will. The overall effect was rather disconcerting to Shunsui's trained eye, but the Ukitake's didn't seem to notice.

"Kyouraku holdings are quite beyond compare, Kyouraku-sama," Ukitake Kimi preened, a polite look gleaming in her sharp eyes. "Although, these honored halls could definitely do with a woman's touch," she added with no small dose of charm.

As if on cue, Shironen lowered her eyes demurely and blushed. Shunsui just about fainted, even from a distance.

"No doubt my bride-to-be will do as much honor to my household as you have done to your husband's." Akihiko strode along, hands clasped behind his back. It was impossible to tell from his delivery if that statement was insult or compliment.

Ukitake Hiroshi clearly took it as the latter. "Yes, my dear girl has done great things for me, and all of our children." That last was tacked on rather hurriedly and a bit too obviously, prompted by a stern glance from his wife. Ukitake's father smiled at her with apology and faded into the background to leave the schmoozing up to his better half.

Kimi took over effortlessly. "Indeed, raising so large a family is no small task. As you yourself will find out before long, my lord." She practically batted her eyelashes at her future son-in-law.

Watching the Ukitakes court his brother, mingled with the head-over-heels sensation of seeing Shironen standing right there in his home and the hangover that was still hovering over him, all combined to make Shunsui about ready to lose his lunch. He began to regret his impulse to present himself when Akihiko caught sight of him.

"Ah, there you are," he said, his love-sick groom act unable to fully mask the sour tone his voice dropped into. "I hadn't expected you would be upright before noon. Come here and give honors to our future relations."

Shunsui was momentarily rooted to his spot. The Ukitakes all turned - well, Kimi and Hiroshi did, as well as the servants they had brought along as protocol dictated; neither Jyuushirou or any other of his siblings were present - except for Shironen, who kept her gaze on the ground. Somehow, her refusal to look at him galvanized Shunsui into striding forward and offering the most formal bow he could muster considering how badly his head was swimming.

He managed quite well, and upon rising noted that at least Hiroshi seemed impressed. His wife was hardly so affected.

"We've met." Blessedly, she said no more than that, although it was clear Kimi was carefully masking a look of contempt.

"Have we my dear?" Hiroshi looked at her quite confused, but it was Akihiko that spoke up next.

"I understand my little brother has attended that Academy," he spat, "with your eldest son, the sickly one. No doubt your paths have crossed before." Lip curling, Akihiko sneered at the swords hanging from his brother's obi; Shunsui didn't even remember belting Katen Kyoukotsu on in his hurry to dress.

He studiously ignored the entire byplay, having eyes for only one person. "You are looking fine today, Shironen-san," Shunsui said as politely as possible.

Finally, she lifted her gaze for the briefest of moments, her eyes flickering away almost as soon as they met his. "I am glad to see you well, Brother," she replied. Her hands, folded properly at her waist, flinched slightly before relaxing.

Akihiko glanced at her, his expression slipping for a second. "My brother is rarely among polite company, and I apologize for his not being present at your arrival," he addressed to the Ukitakes in general, although when he turned back to his brother, his dark eyes were blazing. "I promise you such sloth will not occur at the wedding. Everything will be performed to the highest standards, as to bring nothing but honor to both our Houses."

"Yes, wedding plans must be discussed at length," Kimi said, with a barely perceptible jab to her husband's ribs.

Hiroshi jumped, looking startled, but then seemed to catch himself. "Ah yes, Kyouraku-sama, let us meet up with Lord Kyouraku, there is much still to go over! I'd love to see the renovation plans I hear you've commissioned; we've installed some lovely landscaping at Ugendo and I would be happy to make some recommendations..." The ebullient Ukitake head broke the tension with his enthusiasm and almost by default started the group on their way. Akihiko spared one last, dark look at his younger sibling before resuming his duties and leading the group along.

Shunsui bowed them out, staying prostrate long enough to be sure he was being polite, and when he straightened the room was empty. He let out a long breath, one he hadn't realized he was holding, and collapsed against a wall, head tilted back. _What the hell was that, you idiot?_ he berated himself, although the love-sick part of him had no doubt. He stood there for quite some time, trying to sort through his racing thoughts and feelings and to squelch the over-riding desire to snatch Shironen up right in front of his brother and kiss the hell out of her. Eventually, his hangover started to emerge from its temporary exile and Shunsui pushed off, heading off through the manse in search of more alcohol in which to drown his sorrows, and his desires. There was little doubt at this point that they were pretty much the exact same thing.

His feet took him on a meandering path through the manse, Shunsui's head hardly being up to the task. Trudging down hallways and up stairs, Shunsui took a short cut across an abandoned sitting room and popped out onto a balcony that would see him all the way from the western wing around the south wall to a servant's stairway that would lead into the sake cellar. Because he had to shield his sensitive eyes against the harsh sun, he practically ran into her before he saw the balcony was occupied.

"Shunsui-san!" Shironen yelped and nimbly danced out of the way of getting trampled.

Shunsui himself fell backwards in surprise, then cursed himself for missing the opportunity to 'accidentally' end up in a tangle of limbs. "What are you doing here?"

Huge green eyes blinked rapidly at him. "I was- my father-," she started, then paused to collect herself. "There's lots to discuss, and it was getting stuffy. Your brother suggested I get some air." Her hands flapped feebly at her side before she stilled them.

Shunsui just stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. For a moment, desire to make passionate love to the divine creature before him battled with the part of his brain that acknowledged such a thing would be wildly inappropriate to do to his brother's fiance.

It was a short battle. "Where are your servants?" Shunsui purred, keeping his tone just shy of sultry. It was technically unseemly for an engaged woman to wander a strange house on her own, even if it was to be hers soon.

Shironen's eyes dropped to the parapet. "I wanted to be alone. Just for a moment." She took a deep breath and seemed to find some inner strength. Straightening, she met his gaze with resolute politeness. "It's just all so overwhelming, you know. The wedding, marrying into such a high House." She trailed off, but kept rein on her composure.

"I can imagine," Shunsui replied, regaining enough of his to relax and lean both elbows on the stone railing. "Just think, soon all this will be yours," he said with a wide sweep of his arm, indicating the stunning view of Kyouraku lands spreading out at their feet, bitterness barely masked beneath his velvety tone.

He felt her gaze lingering on him for a long moment before she replied. "Yes. All mine." It was barely a whisper.

Shunsui looked over at Shironen, but she had turned and was focused on the vista. "I apologize for my any awkwardness earlier; I didn't expect to see you here."

She smiled, her head ducking. "You should get used to it, Brother. Soon you'll be seeing quite a bit of me."

Shunsui quirked an eyebrow at her. "Not nearly enough." His tone was anything but brotherly.

Shironen started to roll her eyes, but caught herself and dropped them instead. "You should watch your tongue."

"_You_ should watch my tongue." It was like the words just came out of their own accord. The desire Shunsui had had every intention of drowning raged through him, stronger than ever. He was approaching the edge of desperate.

This time she threw a full glare at him. "I imagine your brother will cut it out if he heard you."

"He would try. It would end badly for him. Actually, 'messy' would be a better term." Shunsui turned around so that his back was to the view, tired of pretending to look at anything other than the angel before him.

She didn't even flinch, some of the backbone he loved so much emerging out of the demure shell she'd donned in Akihiko's presence. "You would kill your own brother in order to make love to his fiance?"

"In a heartbeat." Shunsui didn't even blink.

It took a moment, but she backed down and when she took another deep breath, this time it shuddered. "Since we are soon to be brother and sister," she began, her own voice a little hoarse. "I should begin by apologizing of any of our time together was misleading. It is my dearest wish that our friendship will continue as befitting a new brother-"

He grabbed her wrist; Shironen cut off, her eyes clamping shut. It may have been a play of sunlight, but it seemed as if tears shimmered just behind her thick, black eyelashes.

Shunsui leaned in, his breath fanning her face. "Don't do this." Shironen took a deep, careful breath, but didn't speak. Encouraged, Shunsui continued. "You have no idea what my family is like."

"If they are anything like you, I will be well cared for," Shironen returned, raising her chin as her eyes opened defiantly.

Shunsui stepped in until he was a breath away. "They're _not-_"

She raised a hand to his lips, to keep whatever words they were from escaping. "Then I shall have to rely on my new brother to watch over me as my own would."

Kyouraku's mouth worked, but no sound came out. His eyes were wide with horrified shock. "You can't ask that of me."

"You would have me fend for myself?" She tilted her head.

"_Never_," Kyouraku replied in a tone that was decidedly not brotherly. "Shironen, I can't be your brother. I lo-"

"STOP." Her sharp cry shuddered through the air. Shironen took a steadying breath before continuing softly. "You can never say such things to me, do you understand?"

"No, godsdammit," Shunsui growled, reaching for her chin. "Why won't you hear the truth?"

"The truth is that I am engaged to your brother," Shironen returned, putting as much coldness into her eyes as she could. It froze Shunsui short of touching her and, after a moment, he dropped his hand to his side. "The truth is that you and I _will _be brother and sister. That is the only truth that matters anymore."

Kyouraku watched her for a long moment. "You can't believe that."

Shironen seemed to grow before his eyes, her chin set. "I am the eldest daughter of an impoverished House. This was always my destiny; I was raised to understand that, and to accept it."

Shunsui took a step closer and leaned in, inches from her. "Shironen, is this what you want?"

Gods, she looked kissable, staring up at him with those enormous eyes, standing fierce and tall under the weight on her shoulders. At least, this time, she didn't give him rote bullshit. "It's easy to think you know what you want, when you are young," she murmured. "What I know for certain is that I love my family, and no one - not even you - will convince me to betray them. Whatever your feelings for me may be, can you do me the honor of trying to understand that?"

Kyouraku stared down at her for a long, long time, long enough to know that this stolen moment together must surely be running out. He had no choice; slowly, deliberately, he took a step back from her. Then another. As he retreated to a respectful distance, he could see her relax into something akin to relief, but he wasn't ready to let her off the hook just yet. "I will try to understand," he promised, "if you will answer one question. Answer it true, and I swear I will never ask anything of you again."

Shironen looked wary, but finally nodded. "Ask."

"Do you have any feelings for me at all?" In all the times Shunsui had been undressed around women, never had he felt so naked.

She stared at him for a long time. "No," she replied, barely loud enough to hear. "No more than a sister loves a brother."

She turned then, and walked away. Shunsui watched her retreat, watched her disappear into the house of his family and shut the door firmly behind her. The breeze danced across the place she had been, and at his hip Katen Kyoukotsu stirred for the first time.

_Brother_, the zanpaktou said with unusual solemnity. _She just lied._

"I know." Shunsui turned on his heel and headed back the way he came, wine cellar forgotten. Sake was the last thing he needed now.

What he needed now was a plan.


End file.
